The Magician
by Super Sister
Summary: In order to remain an independent super villain, the Magician must take down two gang leaders, namely Cold Bite and the Great Dragon. More easily said than done... Super Hero or Super Villain AU. Which ever you prefer.
1. As dangerous as a threelegged Cat

_The Magician. _A washed-up, long-forgotten super villian, that was about as threatening as a three legged cat. Well, actually, the cat was probably more threatening than the Magician... The villain started his career as a super villain about five years ago, or at least, he _officially_ started it five years ago.

His criminal life started much earlier than that, not that anyone knew. Or cared for that matter. For two years he ruled a reign of terror upon the helpless city of New Pond, even spreading the fear onto neighbouring cities near New Pond City, practically the whole state; however, it started disintergrating roughly three years ago.

Arthur didn't mind of course. The whole game of Bad Guy/Good Guy was tiring him and it occured to him that, though his super villain career may have satisfied his need for completely unnecessary violence, he had still spiraled into being the monster his father was.

Which was an Alcoholic.

He tried his best to deny being addicted to the blinding drink, but truth be told, everytime he felt down, inclucing everytime he got his butt kicked, he would dress into his civilian clothing and go drinking. Usually, he'd wake up the next morning in his house, leaning against the front door, keys in his hands. On those mornings, he'd silently think he _really_ needed a drinking buddy, someone who would make sure he got home alright and was actually put to bed with some painkillers nearby.

But of course, being an alcoholic hadn't been the thing to influence him into becoming a joke of a villain. Admittedly, it _was_ a factor that supported it, but it was _not_ the main reason why he was New Pond's number one loser.

It was actually his little brother he hadn't even known existed, Peter Kirkland. Three years ago, before drinking had become a problem (or was legal for him), some people from children services turned up and told him that he was Peter's legal guardian. His father was in no condition to care for the boy and his mother had died recently.

Finding out his mother was dead was quite a shock. Sure, she did run out on his father and him when he was little and sure, he didn't actually know her... But in his mind, she had remained his wonderful, perfect and most of all, caring and loving mother.

So, he ended up being in charge of Peter. And this damaged his career. A lot. Suddenly, he found he needed proper work; the part-time jobs not bringing in enough money to support both himself and Peter. He had to either drop his super villian career or drop out of college...

Naturally, he decided to drop out of college.

And so he got a full-time job as a flipping _waiter_ of all things. Of course, this hadn't been enough for Peter. Arthur couldn't let Peter stay at home alone, while he was off on a crime spree, so he often had to encourage the boy to go sleepover at someone's place (getting a babysitter was impossibly expensive. Plus, the babysitter might start wondering where Arthur went).

And then he had to go to his brother's school performances and go to parents evenings as well. He had to suddenly drop out of a show-down between him and any of his given enemies in order to pick his little brother up from school or meet the head master who had gotten the dire need to tell Arthur personally what a trouble-maker Peter was.

The chances Arthur got to be the Magician were becoming smaller and smaller everyday, what with Peter becoming more and more important in his life... Then, one day, without even realising it, one whole year had gone by, in which Arthur hadn't donned the mask and suit to become the Magician. To the public eye, the Magician had disappeared completely.

Then, like a freaking miracle, Tino and Berwald popped up, two super heroes, who weren't just heroes in the public eye. He had met them about one and a half years ago, when Arthur was trying (and failing) to get his criminal career back on track.

Tino was from a rich family and had been a sort-of friend to Arthur, back when Arthur had been attending college.

The Finish boy noticed that Arthur was having difficulties with Peter and offered to act like a godparent to the younger Kirkland brother and to take care of Peter now and then. Arthur had agreed happily, thinking that he would now have a proper chance to fix his criminal career. Only, he never did fix it. Since he could now legally drink (he was 22 years old at the time), everytime he failed to carry out a master plan, Arthur decided it would be a good idea to go and get _drunk_.

Eventually, Arthur decided he was no longer in the position to properly tend to Peter. So he asked Tino and Berwald (someone that was constantly accompanying Tino) to become Peter's legal guardians. And they agreed. Eventually.

But instead of life getting better for Arthur, it just kept getting worse and worse. Berwald had to move back to Sweden, because of "family matters" (actually, Berwald was hunting down a super villain that he had finally located in Sweden) and Tino had agreed to go too.

When Tino told Arthur, Arthur insisted they took Peter with them, despite Arthur going on about how he should have _known_ the two would eventually take Peter away from him.

Arthur had thought his problems would fix after Peter had left his life completely, but they didn't. He found out that he was actually incredibly fond of his little brother and missed him a lot more than he thought he would (he also got drunk about it often). Then it also dawned on him, that he, as the Magician, wasn't considered a serious threat any more.

He blamed this on not really being able to plan out his big return(s) properly, seeing as he had been busy looking after Peter and acting out the perfect older brother. But a small part of him knew this was a lie...

And so, Arthur found that he was an alcoholic, college-dropout waiter, working in New Pond City at the age of 23, with his villain career being a huge joke, despite having been the most terrifying thing in the state for a whole two years.

Arthur tiredly looked through his post. Bill, bill, bill, bill... Spam. Lots of spam... Oh. And a letter from Peter. Arthur dumped the now-sorted post onto the kitchen table and made himself some tea.

Really, he should move back to the UK; get a new, fresh start. Sure, he had spent more than half his life in America, but he had family in Britain and in all honesty, he really needed them in order to sort his life out (well... Maybe he didn't need his cousins so much, all four of them were bastards, but still..).

Sadly, Arthur lacked the money to move back to the UK and was actually kind of nervous about contacting his relatives again. He hadn't spoken to them since he found out his mother had died and before _that_ he hadn't talked to them at all.

Arthur finished making his tea and plumped down on the sofa, turning on the TV to watch it. He flipped through the channels, soon realising nothing was on. He stopped when he reached the "Super News" Channel, which was an exclusive TV channel only available in New Pond City.

It reported 24/7 anything to do with Supers, whether they were bad or good guys. And, if anyone wanted to know what their enemies were up to, this was the perfect channel to watch.

At the moment they were reporting Arthur's wonderful failure from last night, as the Magician. The two reporters sat in their delux seats, with their stupidly over-priced coffees in luxurious mugs, big sappy, fake and most of all, _mocking_ grins on their faces, wearing classy suits and staring at each other.

"_... I don't even know why he tries any more. I think even he knows by now, that he's a washed-up has-been. Not even the amateur supers care about him any more. He's just become that pathetic!_" The woman said cheerfully. Arthur glowered at the TV.

Oh please. He wasn't that bad. So he didn't put that much work into being a stupid villain any more. So what?

"_Everyone also claims he doesn't have super powers. Come to think of it, when I was rereading e__verything and anything about him, it occured to me that he didn't seem to have ever used super powers. And when fighting America, he usually relied more on tricking the super, rather than having a face-off with_ _him. Does sound like he lacks super powers, doesn't it?_"_  
_

_"Intresting point. Not having super powers is quite impressive if you can pose a serious threat. However, the_ _Magician _isn't_ threatening any more, is he?"_

_"Nope. Although, I wouldn't call lacking super powers impressive Sal. Think about it. The Magician is essentially a conman. He usually avoids fights with anyone he considered out of his league, such as mentioned before, America. Doesn't avoiding a fight often mean you are a coward as a villain?"  
_

What? Arthur knew he hadn't ever bothered revealing his super power to the world, but that didn't mean he lacked one! Besides, why were they claiming him to be a coward? He was _not_ a coward!

_"I don't know Sam... It's kind of a pity with the Magician though. He's really lost his spark. Anyway, let's move on to more important and exciting events!"_

_"Oh yes! Sal, tell me, did you know that America and his team are in the middle of a show-down against Cold Bite?"  
_

_"Oh yes, yes, yes! I heard about it! Last night they fought at East Railway Station and now they're at Green Minute Park..."_

Annoyed, Arthur threw the TV remote at the TV, only causing a tiny dent to appear on the screen.

He then plugged out the TV annoyed, throwing the wire violently against the wall. How dare the TV not explode on impact? Of course he knew that that wouldn't have happened in reality, but he really didn't care. He had _not_ lost his spark. He simply had a rotten private life which had become even more rotten once Peter had entered and left it, while destroying his villainous career completely.

Arthur got up and grabbed his coat. He needed a drink.

* * *

This was a _really_ fucked-up night.

He wasn't drunk. Why wasn't he drunk? It was nearing midnight and he was still as sober as a lemon (where did he get that comparison from?)

He was still on his first drink, that he'd been stirring for nearly four hours. And glaring. He'd been doing _lot's_ of good old fashioned glaring_._ You see, it seemed that tonight, out of all nights, the whole super-hero community thought it would be a brilliant idea to show up at the bar that Arthur visited regularly, to watch a match.

Arthur wasn't sure what sort of match, since he wasn't a sport fan, however, he knew it had to be at least a very exciting; the way the supers were cheering the teams on.

And how did he know the superhero community had all but crashed the pub (well, it wasn't a pub as such. Proper pubs only existed in Britain after all)? Obviously, a bunch of supers wouldn't come into a building to get drunk, while wearing their alter-ego costumes. No, they had entered as civillians.

But that must mean Arthur knew who their alter-egos were!

Well, fucking hell, of course he bloody well did.

Remember that super power Arthur mentioned before? Well, that was his super power. He had the _Sight_. Or selective telepathy. Whichever you preferred.

Essentially, the sight enabled him to read people and objects like an open book. He could draw out basic information, such as age, job, social status and names just by looking at them (when it came to objects, it was a bit different). Meaning, whenever he happened to meet a super hero in his normal persona, he immediately _knew_.

It was also the Sight that made him think that everyone else knew who he, as the Magician, was, seeing as he knew who they were and could look through their disguises with ease.

Eventually he learned that the Sight was his super power, but it took a while. A long while.

Arthur sighed and dared a tiny sip again. Oh, he really should just get up and leave, seeing as he could not get drunk comfortably, with a bunch of supers around. But he couldn't. This was _his_ bar and while he may surrender on the battle field, he absolutely _refused _to, when it came to _his bar._

_Why won't you all just get up and bloody well leave already?_ His mind screamed at them, not that they could hear.

All supers present weren't telepathic, so he didn't have to worry about his thoughts being read. He sat there, glowering at them, as the few supers, legally allowed to drink, got drunk.

Strange. Arthur had never actually met the supers outside of his criminal life before (minus Feliciano that is). Sure, he'd known their names for a while, but he had never bothered meeting them as a regular citizen.

After all, they'd been "kind" enough to stay out of his private life, so he'd do the same thing for them. And it was an unspoken rule to stay out of each other's private lives anyway.

He stared at the crowd, deciding to count how many of them were present. Quite a few supers had already left, but there was still a bunch around.

Let's see... Who was left? Well, there was America, his brother Inviso, Shiro Ninja, Veloce, Red Blitz, Germanium, Brillo and finally Allure.

Or, if you wanted their human names, Alfred F. Jones, Matthew Williams, Kiku Honda, Feliciano Vargas, Gilbert Beilschmidt, Ludwig, Antonio Fernández Carriedo and François Bonnefoy.

They were in company of a non-super, Lovino. Unless, of course, you decided Lovino's amazing ability to cuss like no other man was a superpower. Then he wasn't a non-super.

Arthur sighed and looked at his drink. He really just wanted to get drunk, but with a bunch of his enemies present, he wouldn't be able to. He frowned and got out of his chair and put on his coat to leave, thanking the barmaid briefly, who in return simply looked shocked that one of their regular customers was actually leaving sober.

So he would even surrender his bar to those bloody tossers. Oh well. There were plenty of other bars he could visit...

He was almost out of the door when he heard someone yell "Hey Arthur! Ve~ Arthur! Over here Arthur! Ve~"

Arthur froze, a huge scowl forming on his face as he closed the door and left the exit, in order to turn around and look at the only Italian he knew could have possibly said that.

Feliciano grinned at him and waved like mad, Lovino glaring at him and everyone else looking a bit confused.

"Ve~ Arthur, I didn't know you were here!"

"Er... Neither did I." Arthur said in reply, trying his best to look friendly (and failing).

"Do you want to sit with us? Ve~ Then I can finally introduce you to all my friends!" Feliciano continued, giving him a puppy-look, that not even a super villain could say no to. Arthur frowned, but nodded, despite his guts screaming at him to run far, far away.

Blitz, Allure, Lovino and Brillo were already drunk, all four shouting at the TV screen, demanding why the teams were messing up so badly.

America was also too busy watching the screen, too busy to notice Arthur. Which was a relief. America, out of the nine present, had spent the most time fighting the Magician (until the villain became a loser) and was the most likeliest to recognise him, which was a risk Arthur should deffinitely not be taking. But was.

Feliciano patted a free seat next to him and Arthur took it, shrinking back nervously. Usually he didn't mind meeting strangers he didn't plan on meeting ever again, however, these were enemies. This changed everything.

"Ve, ve~ Arthur, this is Kiku and Ludwig and those are Gilbert, Alfred, Francis and Antonio. You already know my fratello. Ve~"

"A pleasure to meet you." Arthur bit out, giving them a very bitter smile.

"Er... Feli, you forgot me..." A voice piped up. Everyone (minus the ones consumed by the match) jumped up and looked to where the voice had come from.

"Oh yeah, ve~ Sorry Mattie, I forgot. Arthur, this is Matthew. He's Alfred's brother, ve~ Oh, and Ludwig is Gilbert's brother, I don't think I've mentioned that! Ve~"

"How do you know Feliciano?" Inviso- Matthew asked curiously, looking at his empty cola, the closest thing he'd get to an alcoholic drink.

"Er... I work for his grandfather... I'm a waiter at their restaurant."

"Strange. I've never seen you there before." Germaniu- Ludwig commented, drinking his own cola, being likewise unable to drink legally.

"I've never seen you there either..." Arthur replied. Well, that was a lie. He'd seen Ludwig often enough and every single time, he'd carefully avoided him. No need for more supers than necessary to personally know him.

"It is nice to meet you Arthur-san."

"Y-yes. It's nice to meet you too." Arthur replied, forcing a smile on his face. Oh, Arthur is such a liar.

"Hey, you're British." Americ- _Alfred_ said, looking at him surprised. Arthur frowned, finding it even more difficult to behave politely towards him of all people.

"Thank you for noticing." Arthur replied sarcastically. Alfred smiled and held out his hand.

"Alfred F. Jones."

"I know."

"You do?" Oops. Minor slip. Easily covered.

"Well, I meant, I know your first name. I don't need to know your full one." Arthur replied, faking his smile even more. Alfred grinned.

"Why are you guys here anyway? With the amount of people present, I'd assume you're celebrating something?" Arthur asked.

"Of course we're celebrating! Not only is there a match on, but have you heard what happened to Cold Bite recently?" Alfred replied (more like shouted), grinning.

"No. I haven't. I'm not that interested in what supers get up to. So if you feel you _must_ enlighten me, please do." Arthur muttered. This was not what he wanted to be doing on a Saturday evening.

"America totally kicked his ass! And caused his great master plan to fail completely! Hahaha!" Alfred said, now laughing obnoxiously. From underneath the table, Invis- Matthew kicked him.

"America kicked his ass all by himself, eh? From what I heard, it was a team effort." He sneered at his brother. Americ- Alfred frowned.

"Yeah but I- he didn't need it much." Everyone glared at him, apart from Arthur, who decided to pick up on the slip-up. No harm in teasing.

"I? What do you mean I?" Arthur asked, successfully faking an innocent expression.

"Er- I didn't mean I. I meant he. It just slipped." He lied, smiling nervously.

"Arthur-san, what do you think of-" Kiku tried to distract, but Arthur interrupted him.

"It just slipped? Wouldn't slip mean that you made a mistake? Hey, now that I think about it, you _do_ look awfully familiar, you know. Like I've seen you somewhere before..." Arthur said, trying to hide the very satisfied feeling he was getting in the pits of his stomach. Oh, this was a lot more satisfactory than any punch to the face he could have ever given. He almost had a predatorial grin on his face.

"Er... Er..." Alfred stuttered.

"_Goal~!_" All four drunks suddenly shouted, hugging (and kissing when it came to Francis) each other and throwing their arms in the air.

Arthur frowned. It seemed that was all he was going to get out of America for the night. He sighed and got up.

"Well, I really should be going. I do want to actually get up tomorrow morning, you see." Arthur said, getting out of his chair.

Feliciano made him sit down again.

"Ve~ But Arthur, this part of town is dangerous this late at night." Feliciano complained. Arthur frowned and tapped his fingers on the table.

"Yes, but with this many super heroes around, I doubt I'll be in danger." He replied, standing up. Again, Feliciano made him sit down.

"But what if they've all gone drinking and aren't doing any of their "Protect the City" Stuff tonight?"

"Well, I highly doubt that they'd be that _careless_ now, would they?" Arthur replied, biting back a smirk when he saw everyone flinch. Ah. So the cities ever-adored protectors weren't as responsible as everyone thought? What a fun fact.

"But Arthur, what about the off-chance they might actually all be drunk?" Feliciano insisted.

"Why? As said, they would never be so _irresponsible_, as to let innocent _citiz_ens get hurt on their watch, merely because they all want to go and get drunk." Arthur repeated, practically feeding off the guilt that the supers were giving off. Arthur continued.

"Why would they all want to go out drinking at the same time anyway?"

"Well, because they've managed to bring down Cold Bite of course, _duh_~ Ow!" Alfred said, wincing when his brother kicked him again. Everyone mentally screamed _"Shut up Alfred!_"

"Oh? And how would you know that? You said that like you _know_ this is deffinitely what happened... Wait a second... Hm... You all actually look kind of familiar..." _Oh, teasing their secrets is more fun than it should be_. Arthur thought, watching everyone sweat.

"We would still prefer you not to leave unless accompanied Arthur-san." Shiro- Kiku said. Arthur squinted at him, mouthing Shiro, before lightly shaking his head, secretly grinning at the reaction he got from Kiku.

Arthur sighed and rolled his eyes. They really were overreacting. Arthur could handle himself. He'd fought with each of them before and had actually won several times. Not that they knew. He could easily take on a few thugs.

"Look, I'll be fine. The city's protectors have taken down the most dangerous threat in the city. And most thugs will stay low after such a victory. Unless some random villain like, I don't know... The Magician decides to go on a crime spree, I'm not really in that much danger."

Everyone suddenly snickered at the Magician's name, causing Arthur to frown.

"What's so funny?" He asked, trying to sound confused.

"The Magician? Seriously? You still consider him dangerous?" Alfred asked. Arthur blushed slightly in embarrassment and folded his arms.

"Well, yeah... I mean, sure he hasn't pulled any dangerous heists worth mentioning recently, but he's still dangerous..."

"You cannot be serious. The most dangerous thing he's done recently is try to rob a liquor store. Average citizens took him down." Ludwig commented, looking at Arthur confused.

"Yes, but he used to be really dangerous. I mean, he frightened the whole state, even including the super heroes and no one could bring him down."

"Yeah, but that was three years ago. He hasn't been dangerous since then."

"But... Why isn't he dangerous any more?" Arthur asked, suddenly realising that super heroes really _did_ consider him a joke... Did that include the criminal scene as well? Did they also think he was pathetic?

"No one knows Arthur-san. Whatever happened three years ago has rendered him into, now please pardon me for saying this, a complete idiot that has no idea what he is doing."

"But... No one ever took him down. He just simply vanished. What's to say that he won't become the Magician of three years ago again, where not even America could take him down?" Arthur asked, his voice barely restraining his anger.

Everyone stared blankly at their drinks, while the drunks were busy starting to fall out of their chairs.

"But... He's not that dangerous. He doesn't even have a super power." Alfred muttered, who had the complete inability to read the mood. Arthur sighed and grabbed his coat.

"With or without escort, I think you guys are overreacting about my safety. I'm going home now, maybe I'll see you later." Arthur said, promptly leaving before anyone could protest.

So, the Magician's not dangerous, hm? Well, that could easily be fixed.

* * *

**Translation of or Information to the super hero names...**

**Inviso: A name given to Matthew by the media. His original name (again, given by the media), was Inviso-Bill, but he eventually got them to drop the "Bill" part of his name. And yes, I stole the Inviso-Bill name from Danny Phantom. Sue me :P  
**

**Shiro Ninja: 'Shiro' is Japanese for White. Why in the world is Kiku called "White Ninja"? Don't look at me, I don't have a clue either.  
**

**Veloce: Italian for "Fast".  
**

**Red Blitz: Blitz means Lightning.  
**

**Germanium: Germanium is a type of metal. This is no joke. There's also Americium, Francium and Europium. Fun, right? :3  
**

**Brillo: Spanish for Brightness. Kind of an ironic name really...  
**

**Allure: French for Appearance, look, pace, speed, style, walk, pizzazz, smartness and all that jazz. :D Well chosen name France, well chosen indeed.  
**

* * *

**It was a new shiny idea! I couldn't resist! I had to write it quickly, in order to get... er... In order to concentrate on other stuff better! yeah! That's it! (sweats)**


	2. Doorbell Ringing

Doorbell. Ringing. Loud. Unbearable. Ringing. Arthur groaned, burying his head further in his pillow. Maybe, just maybe, if he ignored the ringing, it would eventually go away. Ugh... It was times like this, when he wished he _had_ gone drinking. At least he would have had a nice buzz the night before.

Even though he hadn't actually drunk anything, he still felt like he had a hangover. Damn his insomnia.

Ringing. It was still ringing and it hadn't stopped. It _wouldn't_ stop. Whoever was ringing sure was persistent. Arthur sighed, now throwing his duvets over his head in a desperate attempt to ignore the noise.

It'd go away eventually, right? He just had to wait long enough...

Before Arthur knew it, he had thrown himself out of his bed and searched for his dressing gown, before half-falling down the stairs to open the front door, not even bothering to look through the peep-hole to see who it was, like he usually did.

Which was a bad idea.

Light streamed into his little flat and he groaned, mixing it with a yawn as he rubbed his eyes tiredly. In a blink of an eye he was wide awake, seeing Veloce standing at his door, with large amber eyes looking at him with relief.

"Oh Arthur, I was worried you didn't get home safely last night, and even though Fratello said not to worry and that you were OK, you wouldn't pick up your phone, although it was late at night, so it was understandable, but I was worried, so I thought I'd better pop by quickly to check up on you, because I was worried, you know? I mean, yesterday there was a mugging or so I heard and the victim was a blonde man your age roughly, so that's why I thought it might be you and that's why I got worried and-"

"I get the point Feliciano. It's OK." Arthur interrupted, having calmed down enough to talk. Right. Veloce knew Arthur Kirkland and the Magician, but he didn't know that both people were the same person. He hadn't come to demand answers from Arthur. Not yet. The tenseness from his muscles slowly disappeared, but he still stayed a bit alert, seeing as this _was_ one of his enemies.

Even if Feliciano didn't know it.

"Ve~ So you're OK?"

"Yes Feliciano, I'm fine... Other than a bloody headache that is..."

Feliciano frowned and Arthur flinched. He could read that Feliciano knew that Arthur had drinking problems. He saw it in the Italian's face. Feliciano probably thought that Arthur had gotten drunk last night. Which wasn't true.

An awkward silence settled between the two. Arthur refused to invite the Italian inside, not wanting him to stay any longer than necessary.

"Ve~ Well, since you're OK, I'll go then. I've got to go meet Ludwig and Kiku. See you later Arthur!" Feliciano finally said after an awkward pause, waving goodbye as he slowly left.

"Er... Yeah. Bye. See you at the restaurant tomorrow." Arthur replied, closing the door. Sighing he went upstairs to get changed. It was ten o'clock, so high time to get ready for the day.

After having a cold morning shower, he got himself breakfast and sat alone in his kitchen, sipping tea now and then. He sighed. His home was so empty without Peter. He usually didn't notice, but it was moments, when he was sober and wasn't busy plotting something, that he _really_ noticed how much he missed him.

But sulking in his chair wouldn't make him number one Villain, so he stored his emotions away for later, choosing to ignore them for now.

Arthur sat there, wondering where to start. Obviously, he could hardly make a big entrance or at least, not any time soon, with the amount of muck-ups he'd made recently.

And he needed an obvious goal, other than just scaring the heck out of people for the hell of it. Something bigger than simply pickpocketing the rich and then using it to pay for some neat stuff he wouldn't have otherwise even dreamed of.

He knew he hated super heroes. Well, no, he hated _supers_, despite being one himself. Arthur always considered himself as more of a part-super, rather than a whole one.

All supers had amazing healing abilities and could heal from bruises in a matter of minutes. He however? Despite having a sort-of super power, he lacked the bonus of healing. A reason why he, as the Magician, usually avoided getting into physical fights. He wouldn't recover fast enough.

Since Arthur lacked having proper telepathy (it was _selective_ telepathy, after all) and completely lacked healing abilities, he considered himself part-super.

So. Arthur hated supers in general. He despised them and loathed them with all his heart. Or at least, he thought he did. Tapping his fingers on the table, he tried to figure out what to do with this hate.

He could hardly go one on one with any given super, let alone take on all of them to make them suffer. He could also hardly kill all of them. Seeing as new supers were born with every new generation, he'd be killing people forever... Or specifically... At some point he'd be forced to kill... Children...

No. If anything, if Arthur _had_ to kill, he swore he'd never touch, let alone kill a child. That was purely wrong. Not even if the child was a super would he dare hurt it in any way. He just... Couldn't do that. Children were too innocent for that.

So, fighting them physically and wiping them out was out of the question. Arthur stood up and cleared his table, washing up. What had the Magician always relied on?

Brains. He could never fight a super, due to lack of healing abilities and actually _having_ a good superpower. Neither was he clever enough to build contraptions or trusting enough to hire henchman, that would make up for his lack in strength, stamina and speed.

However, he could fight against them on a different level. Sweet-talking, manipulating, misleading, tricking, conning, those were his tools.

He didn't use weapons. He didn't use strength.

He used words.

And that was what had made the Magician so scary. In a fair fight you would win. But the Magician didn't play fair, because of the obvious consequences. So... Words. What could he do with words?

It was said that the pen is mightier than the sword... But... How could he use this in his favour? What would hurt the supers, word-wise?

Sure, he could spill their secrets, who they are, where they live, etc., but that would egg them on into figuring out where _he_ lived and who _he_ was. And really, he did _not_ want to mix his private life with his criminal one. Those two he held separate as best he could.

So... What else?

Arthur plumped down on his sofa, turning the TV on. It was still on the Super Channel.

_"And last night, Veloce, despite the supers not having been seen doing their usual patrols, was seen scouting the Trickle District, keeping citizens safe at night. Thank you Veloce, thank you for protecting us!_"

Arthur blinked.

Oh.

It was so _obvious_ now. The people of New Pond City loved their super heroes. They practically worshipped them. And the supers thrived on love and attention. That's why so many had started springing up in the last few years. Because in New Pond City, you were automatically _loved_, no matter how good or bad you were as a hero. After all, there was even a whole _news channel_ dedicated to their work.

Surely, the super heroes would be _devastated_ if they were _shunned_ and _hated_ in their beloved city? They'd be forced to listen to the population's demand and disappear from the picture... After all, what the people want, the people _will_ get, no matter how long it takes or how hard it is. And, Arthur knew it was rather easy to manipulate people into thinking what any given person wanted them to.

It happened with Hitler, who manipulated Germany into following him, it happened all the time with _journalists_ and their articles, where they influenced you into thinking _Yes, you are right_, despite not knowing if they were saying the truth or twisting it for their own purposes...

And Arthur would do it. It was perfect. He would need a position that would enable him to manipulate people into hating supers in general. Make them believe they were a danger to society, an abomination to the human race...

This would all be too easy for him, what with all the flaws supers had. Arthur would use greed and fear in order to feed what will be a growing hate.

And he could easily do that. But first, he needed a Publisher or a newspaper company. Obviously, Arthur would be applying as "Arthur Kirkland", but he wouldn't use his normal self for this dirty work. That would be too dangerous and involve supers in his private life, something he _really_ didn't want.

No. He would just get his normal self working there, to see what the bosses said and know how the journalists thought. Then he could send them anonymous letters, _articles_, in which every flaw of any of the supers' latest escapades is pointed out in great detail.

Yes. That was it. And in order to seem less suspicious, Arthur would have to start being a "supporter" of supers. He would or should eventually be fired, but that didn't matter.

So that would be his revenge. But revenge as _Arthur_, not the _Magician_. Indirectly, it _was_ the Magician's revenge, but still...

The Magician would have to go on rampages again. Properly planned ones though. Arthur leaned back. Yes. He would crash posh parties and pickpocket them, then leave trails of destruction behind.

He could sabotage the Heroes, making them mess up saving people and buildings and beating bad guys. Sabotaging them would also help his newspaper-alter ego in his hate campaign...

Yes... That was it. Arthur grinned, feeling the plan manifest in his mind, becoming a solid goal. It was perfect. If he was successful, all super heroes would be forced into hiding, unless they want to risk their beloved citizens killing them, simply for being "special". And, for a while, he'll rock out as the Magician and have the whole city fearing him again.

Maybe he'd have the whole state fearing him again, as he had managed to once. Yes. Absolutely _nothing_ could stand in his way of this. It was perfect.

Arthur leaned back in his chair. So. He would have to quit his job as a waiter to become a journalist. But it wasn't exactly easy to be one. It was hardly like there was a low supply of journalists in New Pond City, in fact, it was quite the opposite.

If Kirkland was to become a journalist, Arthur would have to pull quite a few strings. He knew he had a skill and talent for words (his teachers used to praise his essays and literature work), but nowadays, skill and talent weren't that important. They wouldn't get you what you wanted. Today relied mostly on connections and contacts, which, as Arthur thought about it, he severely lacked.

Arthur frowned. Had he really gotten so obsessed with his alter ego, that he lacked friends? He paused and thought. He had had friends once. If you could call them that. But usually he was just mocked, teased and pushed around. So, was lacking friends his own fault or was it society's?

Arthur wasn't really sure. There was a time, when he found it easy to connect to people and enjoyed spending time with them, but that was only up until the age of... What was it? Six or seven? Something like that... When he moved and started school somewhere else, he was surrounded by strangers. He was shy and awkward and didn't like interacting with the other kids.

They thought his accent was funny. And they teased him about it. He was also too girly for the boys and girls simply disliked boys, which was why he was friendless during his early years... As he grew older, he did make _a _friend, but she was much older than him.

Then he moved again, leaving the city he half-way grew up in, to go finish High School elsewhere. Elsewhere being New Pond City, of course. Arthur sighed. Yes. It _was_ partly his own fault for not having any actual friends, but it was also society's fault. He turned the TV off and got up.

Now, now, he did have a _few_ friends, or at least, acquaintances of sorts. There was Tino and Berwald (despite them being in Sweden for the past one or two years) and Feliciano and Lovino. Maybe he could find out from them if they knew someone who could give him a job. He'd have to look into that...

Lovino wasn't very social and was more likely to tell Arthur to get lost (usually using words a bit more colourful than that, of course), but Feliciano wanted to help him, so he wouldn't deny him help.

But asking Feliciano for help would mean getting to know Veloce just that little bit more better than necessary... Well, everyone had to make a sacrifice. He got off the sofa and decided to go for a walk. He should buy a newspaper while he was out... Or maybe a few.

Tomorrow he would look for jobs or... _create_ some jobs for himself... He should also look for some major party or celebration or something, that the Magician could crash. Arthur locked the front door, pocketing his keys. He looked around the long halls.

Maybe he should start interacting with his neighbours? Arthur considered this briefly, but shrugged it off. Most of his neighbours were bitter artists or tired pensioners, who wanted nothing more than for the world to start revolving around them. They wouldn't want to help Arthur in his search for a new job.

They were too self-indulgent, self-centred, self-pitied and all-in-all too _selfish_ for that. Hell, they didn't even help him when he was struggling to look after Peter and make sure the boy was looked after and fed. They had just moaned about the noise the younger Kirkland had made.

It was kind of ironic that mostly the _artists_ complained. After all, Arthur had to tolerate the musical artists suddenly randomly playing an instrument at _one in the morning_. Usually, despite being a light-sleeper, Arthur wouldn't mind, because of the alcohol he had probably consumed, but during the times when he was actually sober and suffered from insomnia, being woken up from sleep made him very. Very. Angry.

He left the block of flats and breathed out deeply. Maybe he should go to church or something. It was a beautiful Sunday after all and if he speed-walked, he may get to one just in time for morning services...

But that would mean introducing himself to the members of the church. Arthur frowned. Really, he didn't want any attention as Arthur. Well, maybe a little, but not too much, unlike when he was the Magician.

Hm... Maybe he should make a new suit for his comeback. Something a bit more elegant or more colourful. His signature black-tie suit with black top hat was already attention grabbing, but for the real, proper comeback, he would have to make it absolutely _clear_ that something had changed.

Maybe he should wear a tailcoat, instead of his trench coat... And fancy black-tie-kind of trousers, rather than the usual black slacks... Of course, he would have to make the clothes himself, seeing as if he bought them from a shop or had them tailored for him, the suit would be too stiff. He had to make sure that he was comfortable in them, in any given situation. Also, he had to make sure they didn't tear, stain or get burned easily...

Then there was the colouration. If he stayed with black, as he usually did, it wouldn't really stand out. Other than looking a bit more fancy than usual, a major difference wouldn't be noticed by an untrained eye.

He crossed the road and started walking through a park, still heading towards a small corner shop that always sold good newspapers.

He would need a different colour from the usual. So black was out of the question. Too bad. It meant he wouldn't be able to hide so well in the shadows. Oh well, never mind. He would think of something to benefit from the situation.

White sounded like a good colour. White always meant shiny and new. Maybe he should also have hints of green or blue in the suit, just to give it a bit more colour than usual. And maybe a walking stick? While those were out of fashion, the Magician wore a top hat. He would get away with using a walking stick.

But the walking stick should be antique or something, just for class and style points... But Arthur couldn't afford an expensive, antique walking stick. Waiting tables only brought so much money in and Arthur didn't want to waste it on something as pretentious as a walking stick, that he only planned on using once... Oh, he'll just steal one, that easy.

Yes. That sounded good. He'll have to buy the materials for the clothes... But again, he couldn't afford it. And again, he can simply steal some. Arthur should buy the materials at different shops. Detection would be more difficult if he went to multiple shops and only half the time bought the actual materials there, rather than getting them for "free".

Arthur finally left the park and looked left and right to cross the street. A car kindly enough, stopped for him, allowing him to cross. He smiled and waved a quick thanks.

If only the driver knew that they had just stopped for the Magician... Then again, for now, it was best the driver didn't know, mostly because the Magician was still "the laughing stock of the city".

He pushed the corner shop's door open and looked around, taking a deep breath of the stuffy, old, dusty air. It always smelled like that here... It was a peculiar scent, but Arthur didn't mind it. It actually reminded him of his father's study, which he only entered, when his father had enough time to read him a bedtime story. Yes... He quite liked the corner shop's smell.

"Oh, hello Mr. Kirkland!"

"Hello Lilli. Are you minding the shop today?" Arthur greeted back, smiling to see the shy, young Swiss girl. Her parents had died when she was little, so she and her brother were forced to leave Switzerland, to live in America with their grandparents.

While her older brother Vash didn't turn out so well (in Arthur's opinion), Lilli was coming along just fine.

Lilli nodded happily and watched Arthur pick out a few newspapers, before coming to the counter to pay for them.

"You don't usually come in on Sundays... Are you having a good day today?" Lilli asked conversationally, noticing Arthur's happy mood.

"You could say that... I was inspired to take things I do a bit more seriously than usual last night and I guess that's having a good effect on me."

"I'm glad to know... Er... Are you... Alcohol?" Lilli asked. Arthur frowned. Why did everyone act like being an Alcoholic was a taboo? If you had a problem and everyone knew what it was, there was no_ need _to act like it was a taboo. Then again, Arthur hadn't actually ever sang out "I~I Am an Alcoho~olic!", so maybe she thought that Arthur didn't know that she knew he was an alcoholic.

Typical.

"No, it's quite alright Lilli... I think I'm going to try and stay sober for long periods of time now."

"You're giving up drinking?" Lilli asked, quickly covering her mouth in embarrassment. "Er... I mean..."

"It's alright Lilli. I know you know that I'm an alcoholic. It's not exactly hard to tell; with the way you act."

"Oh er... S-sorry Mr. Kirkland."

"As said Lilli, it's quite alright." Arthur repeated, giving her the money for the newspapers.

"Well, good day then."

"Er- Good day Mr. Kirkland."

Arthur left and started heading home again. Vash and Lilli could sort of be considered friends. Despite only knowing them, because he was a regular customer, they knew enough about each others private lives to be well past the line of mere acquaintances.

Or at least, that's what Arthur thought. He knew a lot about their private lives, but that may only be because of the Sight. Oh well.

Arthur sat down in the park, opening up one of the papers and looking it over.

He smiled, when he spotted a small article about how there would be an exhibition of jewellery dating back to the 15th century in two months time. It was the exhibition's twentieth anniversary and the city apparently felt "honoured" at the anniversary being celebrated in New Pond City, rather than its city of origin.

This was one of the things he loved about New Pond City. Despite the problems with crime that it had, it still had plenty of stupidly huge celebrations, filled to the brim with stupidly rich people who were just _begging_ to be stolen from, the way they called for so much attention. Arthur smiled, remembering the times he saw his victim's startled faces, at realising that the Magician had stolen their valuables without even touching them (actually, Arthur had pick-pocketed them earlier, but only turned up to announce it later, not that anyone noticed).

He also quite liked the star of the exhibition. The Rose of Britain. A jewellery piece that was originally supposed to be a present to Queen Elizabeth the 1st, only to be lost at sea. It was recently rediscovered by scuba divers, who per chance discovered the ship. Ever since then, it had been paraded around proudly. Of course, there were only five more years left, before the Americans would, as promised, give it to the British Royal Family again, as a "gift".

Well, no Royal Family would get it, if a certain Magician thought the Rose would look quite nice elsewhere. Like... It would have looked really nice on Lizzy... Too bad she's dead...

Arthur circled the article, then got up. For now, his proper, official comeback would be at this exhibition, unless he found a much better place, that would bring in a lot more loot and publicity. It didn't look like it, but still. Arthur walked home, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

He was an alcoholic. While he could resist the drink for many months, if he ever touched alcohol, he wouldn't be able to stop himself asking for another glass and then another and another... So he would have to stay away from the beautiful poison completely. _No way will I be able to pull that off by myself..._ He thought, as he trotted out of the park, back towards his flats.

Once reaching it, he kicked his shoes off and threw himself on the sofa. He really needed to keep away from alcohol. Despite being able to resist it for months without problem, he usually couldn't say "no" to a glass of wine or any other alcoholic beverage. And seeing as his solution to every problem was alcohol, he could very well see a... problem there.

His eyes wandered over to the coffee table, to the open newspapers he had elegantly dumped on it. He sat up, seeing one of them open on an advert page.

"_Is Alcohol costing you a little more than it should, like family, friends and work? Then come join Alcoholics Anonymous, where we will help you and give you the support you need._"

Arthur paused and looked at the ad in suspicion, but sighed. Looked like he may have found a solution to his alcoholic-problem as well...

... Assuming he found the courage to go to one of their meetings.

* * *

**Crappy end to chapter is crappy end to chapter. :P  
**

**I've decided this _is_ my next multi-chapter. I've finished Human Curiosity, so I can concentrate on this. :D  
**

**So, basic stuff I didn't mention earlier:**

**- No pairings. Possibly very subtle hints, but they won't be deliberate.  
- Updates will be slow, because of:  
1: School  
2: Writer's block. Or rather, I'm writing this story in a different style to that of what I'm used to. 3: Different Character perspective. While it may not seem that different from previous stories, it is. To me.  
4: 4000-5000 word chapter limit. A difficult number to reach.  
**

**So yeeah...  
**

**Anyway... Er... Review?  
**


	3. Having Contacts

Several days later, and Arthur still hadn't bothered joining any Alcoholic Anonymous groups. He denied that he was too nervous or too anxious to even go, but truth be told, he was in actual fact absolutely terrified.

Arthur never admitted to a mistake or fault. Not only did he deny them to anyone he talked to, but he also denied it to himself. He believed he was flawless or at least, perfectly justified in any of his actions, even the ones which were lawfully wrong.

And so, he still wasn't getting help with his alcoholic problem. Not that it mattered. Becoming a non-alcoholic was a goal that had to be achieved at some point in the future, but not immediately. There were more important things he had to do first.

For example, getting a journalist job. Although Arthur _could_ easily make some jobs "available" for himself, he really didn't want to get the job through doing anything illegal. He had to keep Arthur Kirkland's record absolutely spotless. Kirkland wasn't allowed to even get a speeding ticket.

It was highly important that Kirkland received zero attention. And that wasn't just so that people didn't notice the connection between himself and the Magician.

He sighed and sank into the chair he was sitting in.

There was a lot of competetion in journalism and usually, those who some how knew the bosses or had a connection within the company in some other, bizarre way, often got the job. Complete strangers weren't even glanced at.

Arthur was sitting in the restaurant he worked in, at one of the tables. He was having a break and no customers were around anyway. He stared emptily at the newspaper lying in front of him, several job ads circled in red and then crossed out.

He was running out of places to go to as a journalist. And as said before, he would really prefer getting the job without doing anything illegal.

He looked out the window and thought. Maybe his writing skills weren't good enough? Or maybe it was simply because he hadn't had any experience as a journalist yet? Maybe he was going to far too classy newspapers, who only hired journalists that had been writing in that area for at least five years and were too snobby to accept a wanna-be-journalist waiter?

Arthur jumped when he felt someone put their hand on his shoulder. He looked up into amber eyes.

"Ve~ Arthur? Are you OK?"

"Hm? Er... Well, I'm fine. I'm... I'm just a bit frustrated, that's all."

"Why?" Feliciano asked, peeking over Arthur's shoulder. He looked over the newspaper quickly, before looking at Arthur confused.

"You're looking for a new job?"

"Well... Er... Since... Since I'm not so busy looking after Peter any more, I thought I should go and find some work in an area that actually interests me, rather than in an area which will only cover my bills."

"Ve~ You want to be a journalist? I didn't even know you liked writing!" Feliciano said, smiling. Arthur nodded, then diverted his attention to the newspapers again. He had never really enjoyed talking to Veloce. It was just too _weird_. On the battlefield, you're deadly enemies, but in private, you were friends of sorts? Nah, that was just never going to work. Not in a million years.

"Eh... Arthur, are you finding it difficult to get a place?" The Italian asked, noticing the crossed out job ads. Arthur sighed and nodded again, now fiddling with a fork placed on the table.

"Ve~ I could try and help you get a job, if you want!"

"Er... Well, no, I wouldn't want to waste any of your time..."

"No, it's no problem Arthur! I think I have some friends who could give you a job. I can talk to them for you." Arthur looked at Feliciano's face, as the Italian said that.

Feliciano seemed to think that his friend Roderich Edelstein and Elizabeta Héderváry could get him a job. Arthur paused and tried to remember from where he recognised those names. Something to do with Editor and Journalist... He had picked it up from a TV interview, that he'd been paying hardly any attention to.

Elizabeta was practically a celebrity, since she doubled not only as a journalist, but also as a super hero (or villain) photographer. He had heard a few excited, squealing, teenaged girls talk about her latest photoshots of the supers a few weeks ago, the weird word yaoi being dropped here and there. Arthur didn't have a clue what this "yaoi" was, but he assumed it must be some weird, presumably Japanese thingy.

He remembered who Elizabeta Héderváry was. She was the star journalist of the New Heta Papers. So from where did he know the name Roderich? Ah yes, Roderich was mentioned in an intervew with miss Héderváry. Apparently, he was her ex-husband. The two still got along pretty well, but the fact that they split up still affected them at the most awkward of moments.

Roderich was the chief editor of the New Heta Papers. Arthur put the fork he was playing with down and looked up at Feliciano amazed. How come Feliciano knew those two? Much like the supers in this city, the editor and star journalist of New Heta Papers were very well loved. And Feliciano knew them as _Feliciano Vargas_ and not as _Veloce_, much to his surprise.

"I... I would actually like that a lot. Thank you Feliciano."

"Ve~ I don't mind helping you. After all, we're friends, right?" The Italian replied, smiling at Arthur nervously.

"Er..."

Arthur thought momentarily. If Feliciano was going to successfully get him a job at New Heta Papers, then it was best to he stay on the Italian's sunny side. Denying friendship would deffinitely upset him, seeing as Feliciano was very much the person who liked making bucket loads of friends. And if Arthur wanted to work for New Heta Papers, he really, really mustn't upset Feliciano.

But... Not upsetting Feliciano meant getting to know Veloce better!

... Arthur knew that his need to keep Veloce's personal life out of his was a lot smaller, than his need for a job as a journalist. Especially as a journalist working for such an influential newspaper. He slowly nodded in agreement, the Italian beaming at him.

"Ve~ That's great! I'm glad you see me as your friend Arthur! Ve~ I'll go tell Fratello! He was convinced you hated me, but he's obviously wrong! Ve~ I'll go ask my friends if they'll give you the job ASAP! Ve~ Did you know ASAP stands for As Soon As Possible? Alfred taught me that! Ve~ I'll tell grandpa Roma that you plan on leaving too~ Then he can start looking for a new waiter, ve~ Oh, and celebrate! He really likes celebrating, did you know that? Ve~!"

"Er... That's nice... Feliciano..."

"Feli. You can call me Feli too." Feliciano replied, grinning.

"Er... Right... Yeah... That's nice Feli. Er. Thank you for your help." Arthur finally said, offering the Italian a small smile. "If there's anything I can ever do for you, don't hesitate to ask."

_Why the Hell did I say_ **t****hat?**

"Ve~ OK! I'll remember that, OK Arthur?"

"OK. Yeah..." Feliciano beamed at him again, before prancing off, in search of his Grandpa Roma and Fratello. Arthur sighed and flipped through his newspaper, looking over the article about the Rose of Britain again. He needed to check out the facility, in which the celebration was going to be held. He had to plan where he would appear and how he would disappear without leaving a trace...

But he could do that on the night of the celebration. Preparations would have to be knowing where the security guards and cameras were or where they would be placed. He also needed to know what kind of locks he would have to pick open in order to gain access to anything and which security codes he had to know.

He also still needed to finish aquiring the necessary material for a new suit. He already had several workable materials, but not everything yet... What kind of cufflinks did he want? What sort of buttons should the suit have? He had already decided that the suit will be white with a bit of very light turquoise here and there, but smaller details, like pattern designs and... Buttons... He hadn't planned out yet.

He paused, then closed the newspaper in frustration. He had a strong inkling that he was overlooking something. Something he _could not_ _afford_ to overlook. He tapped his feet, looking left, right and center, but could not figure out what it was. Sighing, he leaned back and looked casually around the room.

His eyes caught the glimpse of the cash machine. He frowned, remembering how his failed comebacks involved a _lot_ of cash mashines. Tapping his fingers, he pondered why he hadn't simply done pickpocketing, instead trying to steal money from shops. Obviously he had been unable to think straight for a _long_ time.

_Oh. That's what I've forgotten._ Arthur thought, smiling in relief. He had remembered what he had forgotten. He was probably out of practice in far too many things. Street magic, stage magic, tricking people, conning, the sight, thinking fast on his feet, logical and rational thinking, and also, style.

Those had all gone down the toilet when Peter came into his life. Arthur was simply relieved that he had two months to prepare for his big comeback. He didn't think he'd be able to balance out a new job, while finishing a suit and relearning his old skills within a month. He would have probably ended up either postponing the comeback or getting fired. Neither of which were favoured.

But when would he practice being a magician? It wasn't like when he was little and could go busking on the streets. And no one may _ever_ find out, that Arthur was a magician. _ Ever_. The consequences of that were far too dangerous. Not for the Magician or Kirkland. But for anyone who mattered to him. Like Peter or his dad.

His fingers strummed against the table surface. He could hardly don the mask and go practice his skills either. He really didn't want average citizens tackling him and then waiting for the police to arrive, while cheerfully exclaiming that they caught a bad guy. He _really_ didn't want that.

So how would he practice? He could become a conman for a short while, but that was risky. What if he was so out of practice, that he could get caught? As said, Arthur Kirkland needed a spotless record to avoid suspicion and attention. And being caught as a conman most deffinitely would not help.

Well, it seemed he would have to be a bit old-fashioned for a while and simply use a mirror for practice, until he thought his skills were good enough. Then he'd use his dummy and a camera to practice stealing off a person, without being seen from the outside... He'd have to eventually switch to using live subjects, seeing as he probably also needed practice in pickpocketing, without the victim noticing.

Well. That sounded more workable. He put the newspaper under his arm and headed over to the counter, in order to put it away somewhere. He stretched, feeling his tired muscles complaining about being forced to stay in one position for too long.

"Mr. Kirkland! I just heard! Why didn't you tell me earlier? We need to prepare a celebration for when you leave for your next job!" Mr. Vargas called out, Feliciano's grandfather. Arthur jumped and turned on his heel. Ah. So Feliciano found his grandfather first, huh?

"Ah! Mr. Vargas! I-I was _going_ to tell you after I found an actual job." Arthur stuttered. He had never handled talking to his bosses very well. At least he was behaving decently towards this one. His previous bosses... They didn't get very nice treatment... To say the least, a lot of swearing and insulting was involved.

"I must say, I'm always glad to see a young man move forward in his search for a better career path! You know, I knew that gastronomy wasn't for you, the moment I saw one of your scones!"

"... What's wrong with my scones?"

The older man merely laughed and clapped Arthur on the back, smiling happily. "Oh, I'm surprised you haven't found a job yet. You're such a good worker and have a brilliant sense of humour!"

"But... I-" _wasn't joking_.

"When do you plan on resigning?" Mr. Vargas interrupted, not listening to Arthur.

"Er... After I got a job somewhere else..." Arthur replied. Mr. Vargas certainly was very excited. The tall Italian man was already planning Arthur's resignation celebration in his mind. The information was so basic to Mr. Vargas that Arthur didn't even have to focus his sight on him. It was practically being thrown in his face.

Mr. Vargas already knew Feliciano wanted to take Arthur to the summer fair as a way of celebrating, but Mr. Vargas thought they also needed an official celebration (official? What, was going to a fair too private, or what?). Mr. Vargas thought a buffet would be a great way to celebrate, with a lot of fine wine and champagne and...

Oh hell no.

Just. No.

"You... Are you planning on celebrating my resignation?" Arthur asked suspiciously.

"Of course not amico." _Sì, I am. It's a surprise celebration!_ Arthur's desire to groan was forced back.

"Well... Not that I want you to get any encouragement if you_ are_ planning something..." Arthur started, grimacing slightly when Mr. Vargas misunderstood this as "_Please throw a ridiculously big celebration for me. I'd secretly be really thankful for it!_". "... But I... I have an alcohol allergy. So... It'd be advised to keep the stuff _far, far away from me._" Arthur continued. "Lightyears away at best."

"Sure, whatever you say!" Again, Mr. Vargas clapped Arthur on the back, Arthur now forcing a pained smile onto his face. Arthur frowned, but was relieved to see that his boss _had_ taken this "alcohol allergy" aboard.

"Well, we're opening up the restaurant again soon. Why don't you go and get ready, hm? Sort out your hair or something..." Mr. Vargas asked, muttering the last part out. Arthur frowned and patted his hair self-conciously.

"What's wrong with my hair?" He asked, slightly insulted. There was nothing wrong with his hair! ... Yeah, so it was even more uncontrollable than Peter (and that was saying _a lot_), but it wasn't like he didn't _try_ to keep it neat!

"Nothing Mr. Kirkland, nothing's wrong with your hair at all." _Everything's wrong with it, but I guess signorinas dig that kind of hair.._.

Arthur bit back a groan and nodded, thanking Mr. Vargas, before rushing off to find his notebook, pen and apron (despite not actually needing one, seeing as he was hardly doing any cooking).

* * *

It was sometime after he got back home and had finished working on his new suit, that Arthur found himself looking at his old gear. He would, of course, be wearing it again after his comeback, but for now, it was hidden behind heaps of everyday clothing, that lacked any imaginative colour or patterns.

The only colour in his wardrobe, as far as everyone was concerned, was black, brown, grey, white and occasionally green. Arthur actually preferred wearing more colourful clothes than that, but he was trying to make Kirkland as dull as possible. Wearing colourful, "happy" clothing would not send out the message "dull".

He sighed, fingering his super-villain costume carefully, remembering the good days he had had in it. He had made the suit himself. He was a rather good tailor, despite never having been trained as one. He learned those skills from a friend of his, called Lizzy.

He remembered the many afternoons he had spent in her room, pricking his fingers and whining about the pain, while she sat on the otherside of it, laughing at him, before telling him to stop being such a crybaby. Despite having hated the way she treated him, she _had_ been his only friend, so he forgave her for that.

The costume still looked brand new, something that Arthur praised himself for. Despite having been in so many fights, the suit showed nothing for it. He must be a natural with a needle. Well. After five years of practice he was anyway. Every stitch was still as strong as it was, when he first made it.

His eyes trailed to the belt, which hung nearby, when he realised another thing he'd completely forgotten about. He moved to the belt, and picked up a gun that hung loosely from it.

He had aquired it a few weeks before Peter turned up. He kept it as a little token of a villain that had dared to threaten him. He smiled and threw it in the air a few times. It wasn't a dangerous gun, not as such. It didn't shoot deadly rays or bullets. It was simply a stun gun. And not a painful stun gun at that. The moment its ray touched you, you felt nothing.

And it wasn't a bad nothing. It was a sort of good nothing, in a really strange way. As the Magician, Arthur had never used it before. Not often enough to be known for using it anyway. After all, he rarely even drew it out, let alone used it. In fact, the only reason he even knew it was a stun gun and actually worked, was because of that one time, when he was on his way home from work.

About three years ago, as said, shortly before Peter entered and ruined his life, Arthur had been walking home from the restaurant; his backpack from college slung over his shoulder, as he hummed quietly to himself.

_On that day, Arthur decided to take a shortcut back home, rather than the long, usual one. As he walked down the empty streets, a man jumped in front of him with a knife. In a blink of an eye, the man bolted forward, thrusting the knife at him. Arthur, having had much worse charge at him, expertly dodged the knife, but was still shocked and frightened.  
_

_Which was odd, seeing as he was the biggest Terror in New Pond City. It was very odd that the "terrorist" as some newspapers dared to call the Magician (a title he did not deserve, neither lived up to) was frightened by a mere mugger (assuming the man was one). The man snarled and turned at Arthur, grumbling something in slurred English.  
_

_Arthur couldn't understand a word, the mans speech was too distorted. Maybe the mugger was drunk? But Arthur had no time to wonder about the activities of the individual attacking him. If he didn't do something, he may end up being a stab victim. Arthur turned and ran a fair distance, in search of a weapon, that would give him a bigger advantage than the knife.  
_

_He remembered his Magician outfit, stuffed in the secret compartment within his backpack. He recalled his stun gun, something he'd barely even used yet. The man caught up with him and grabbed his arm, mumbling something that vaguely sounded like the English language again; while holding the knife in a stabbing position. Arthur stamped on the mans foot and quickly dodged the knife, as it tried to reach his delicate skin._

_Arthur took a few steps back, taking off his backpack to search for the weapon. He sweated, noting in the corner of his eye, that the mugger was getting closer to him, having noticed that his supposed victim was distracted.  
_

_The mugger ran up to him, about to try and stab him again. Arthur quickly pulled out the gun and pulled the trigger, before rolling out of the mans way. The man fell forward, onto the ground, staring quietly at nothing, the knife far, far away from the mugger. A loud thud emitted, as the body connected with the ground and for a moment, there was only silence._

_Arthur sighed in relief and tried to relax. The danger was over._

_He went and picked up the knife, waving it in front of the mans face. "I think I'll keep this as a souvenir." He said, pocketing the weapon. It was then, that Arthur found he was correct about the man being drunk. He could smell the strong stench emitting off the mans body. How had he not noticed before?  
_

_He sighed and packed his things together, while biting his lip uncomfortably. What does he do now? He usually would just disappear, but... But that was as the Magician. As Arthur... What does he do? Call the police? Call for help? He didn't know...  
_

_He looked up, when he heard an obnoxious laugh in the distance. Arthur involuntairily frowned. Right. He was in a city full of super heroes. And one was probably on his( or her) way to supposedly rescue him. And, if he recognised that laugh correctly, it was America.  
_

_Why was America only coming to save him now? He could have used the help five minutes ago! Now everything was over, there was no_ need_ for a flipping super to come and help him! Why__ were they always so damn late for everything? First his dad, then his friend and now the mugging? Damn them all to hell! They're always so bloody late...  
_

_Arthur looked back at the man, rolling the mugger onto his back. Ah. So the man was called Roger Grayman? And he isn't in control of his life and just sick and tired of everything. Arthur sighed, squeezing the stranger's arm comfortingly. Poor guy. Life wasn't being fair to him.  
_

_The Brit opened his backpack once more, taking out a pen and paper to leave an anonymous letter addressed to a certain super hero. Better say something like "Thanks for Nothing", so that he could make America feel guilty for being _slow_. He put the paper on the mans chest, then paused and wrote another note. He tucked the new note into one of Roger's pockets._

_He then gave Roger's hand a comforting squeeze. "Don't worry Roger. Go and look for some help. There's no need to keep your problems to yourself, you know. No need to become a villain. You're a good man, after all." Arthur said, feeling pity for the man. He had a wife, who was unable to work and four kids, one of which was diagnosed with a life-threatening illness.  
_

_Arthur sighed, then ran off; the back of his mind thinking, that he should help the guy, just a bit. At least do something for the sake of his children. He ran down the empty streets, all the way back home.  
_

_Arthur never did look back, to see if America, the super hero he knew was coming to save the victim, had seen him or whether America even noticed the strange note left with the mugger, which lacked a victim. He never looked back on that... Ever...  
_

Maybe the stun gun would come in handy at the comeback. In case his mere appearance and the fact he had pickpocketed them without them being aware, wouldn't scare them enough. And, seeing as the Magician was currently something everyone enjoyed laughing at, rather than hiding from, Arthur reckoned this would very likely be the case.

He frowned again. That man, Roger Grayman. America had thought that Roger was the victim and not Arthur. So no charges were pressed, much to Arthur's relief. He had then given Roger some money anonymously and left _plenty_ of hints around, that advised Roger to go and get himself _sorted out._

Arthur sighed. He didn't make sure that Roger got his life back together. The Brit had been a bit busy looking after Peter and changing his flat into a place two people could live in. Maybe he should check up on Roger again...

Plus, checking up on Roger and said man's family may actually help him get better at being stealthy again, sneaking around in the dark and listening to the whispers. Arthur put the stun gun back and closed the wardrobe, getting back to working on his new suit.

It occured to Arthur, that he hadn't actually been paying attention to the crime scene in a while. Which super villains were around, what sort of organised criminal groups were at the top of their game and ruling the city? He didn't know.

Arthur laughed. He really _didn'__t_ have an interest in supers, did he? He sighed and turned the sewing machine on, getting back to work. Sometimes he wondered what his life would be like without those super powers. Maybe... Just maybe... His life would be a little bit better.

Oh well, never mind. He never did get anywhere, thinking wistfully.

* * *

**Sooo sloooow paaaaceeeed. Why do I torture myself like that? Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. ^.^ (I'm still trying to figure out how that random OC jumped in there...)**

**And also, I said to a few reviewers, that Cold Bite is Russia. Eh... No. He isn't any more. :P It's still technically a hetalia character though! Good look guessing who Cold Bite really is. ^.^  
**

**Review?  
**


	4. Ringing Fingers

Arthur ringed his fingers nervously, fidgeting in his chair. The Brit was sat in the reception of New Heta Papers, left to wait until Mr. Edelstein had time for him.

Feliciano really had done it. According to the Italian, all he had had to do, was invite the two over to dinner, start talking about Arthur and then start begging them to at least _see_ him, before rejecting Arthur. Finally, he won them over with his famous kicked-puppy look.

Arthur frowned, wondering whether Feliciano had manipulated them or if Feliciano was unaware of how people just couldn't say no to him. Probably the latter, seeing as Feliciano's only concerns were cats stuck up trees and people who didn't eat enough pasta, but still... What if there was more to Feliciano than met the eye?

No, that was silly. If there was more to him, Arthur would have seen it by now. Damn his constant paranoia. Arthur sighed and glanced to the large wall clock, hanging behind the receptionists' desk, the constant ticking noise grinding his nerves to dust.

Why did they hang that infernal clock up there? The ticking was so pointlessly loud! Couldn't they have simply bought a nice _modern_ clock, that was wonderfully silent?

He then noticed the receptionist beckoning him over, bringing him out of his thoughts about clocks. He got up and quickly walked over, as quietly as possible. New Heta Paper's reception area was eerily quiet, much to Arthur's discomfort. The only sound was the light whirring noise from the air conditioner, the ticking of the large wall clock and the constant tapping of fingers against keyboards.

The receptionist smiled sweetly at Arthur and turned to face him completely. Jennifer Barker was her name.

"Mr. Kirkland, Mr. Edelstein will now see you." She said, pointing to the lift. "He's on the top floor, the door to the left at the end of the corridor. If you get lost, you can always ask a coworker." She said sweetly. However, the emotion she was emitting was smugness and schadenfreude._  
_

Jennifer's sweet smile suddenly became sickening and spiteful to Arthur. He frowned and nodded, noting that it would be best to avoid the receptionist from then on. He walked over to the lifts, relieved to find that one opened as soon as he pressed the up button. New Heta Papers was the most popular and most influential newspaper in New Pond City. Arthur hadn't thought of asking them for a job, mostly because he thought he would never get accepted there.

Because the newspaper company was so large, they could afford to have a glamorous workspace. The Building looked more like a five-star hotel, than a newspaper company. It was ridiculous! He was alone in the lift, as the thing made its way up. He looked in the mirror, and frowned again.

He looked too nervous. No one employed a nervous wreck, especially if they didn't even want to employ anyone in the first place. He'd need to seem more self-confident and relaxed. Like this job interview was no big deal for him and that he had thousands of other oppotunities waiting for him, should he be turned down... He sighed and wondered how he would pull that off.

He recalled one of his teachers, back in elementary (or primary, as he called it), telling the pupils, that the best thing to do against nerves, was to shake it all out. Arthur had doubted that that would actually work back then, and even until this day, he still doubted it'd work. This didn't stop him from doing it anyway. It wasn't like he was being watched.

He shook himself out, feeling slightly amazed, when he actually _did_ feel calmer. How strange. His teachers actually said something _useful_ for once.

Arthur continued to think. How else could he boost his self-confidence? As if looking around the lift would help, Arthur examined it, seeking out any answer from it. His eyes briefly hovered over the large mirror in the lift, catching a glance of his infamous bright, emerald green eyes, that in his normal persona, were usually hidden away behind two large, black caterpillars (not that Arthur ever described them as such, nor believed his eyebrows were abnormally big).

Seeing his eyes gave him an idea, on how to boost his self-confidence. As ridiculous as it sounded, it might actually work, seeing as silly things, as they ever so often do, tend to work.

He sighed, and pretended to put a mask on, before looking into the mirror again, relaxing his shoulders and putting on a neutral expression. No longer did Arthur see his dull, boring Kirkland-self, that had nothing significantly interesting about him, but his Magician-self, a cocky, manipulative conman, with a long list of real and nonreal crimes.

He smirked. Yup. He just had to pretend he was wearing a mask throughout the interview and everything would be fine. Look like you know what you're doing and that you'll get what you want, no matter what. This would be _easy_. Looking like a complete newbie to journalism certainly wouldn't get him the job after all.

He stretched, in order to relax all his muscles, before trying to flatten his rebellious hair again. Naturally it failed, but it was worth a go.

He then straightened his clothes, and gave the mirror one last look. There. Now he didn't look like he was about to have a nervous break-down. In fact, he looked a bit like the Magician, the same self-confidence and cockiness radiating from the Brit. Maybe it was a bit too similar? Arthur sighed, just as the lift went "ping" and exited it, making his way to Mr. Edelstein's office.

Just because Arthur recognised the Magician in himself, didn't mean others would or could too. Besides, what did he mean by "recognising the Magician in himself"? The Magician and him were the same flipping person! He quickly tucked the thoughts away and straightened up. Right. The Magician and himself were the same person, however, "the Magician" was an act. Arthur wasn't.

In order to stop being the Magician, all Arthur had to do was take off the mask. But he could never stop being Arthur Kirkland, no matter how hard he tried. You couldn't change who you were. He looked at a mirror in the corridor. Great. Now he looked distracted. Arthur started pretending he was wearing a mask again, and he felt relief sweep over him, at seeing how his body naturally became relaxed again.

Good. Now he didn't look like a nervous wreck. He reached Mr. Edelstein's office, seeing the large, ominous doors, practically screaming "Fate" from them. Arthur let out a deep breath, once more relaxing himself, before knocking firmly on the door. There was no hesitation. There was no_ room_ for hesitation. And if Edelstein rejected him... Well, then that would be one more man on his hit list.

"Enter." A man muffled from inside the office. Arthur opened the door, then closed it behind him. He turned around and first saw the office.

It was large and big enough to fit a grand piano in and still look spacious. One wall was made completely out of glass, and had a wonderful view of New Pond City.

Aside from the piano, there was nothing else in the room, apart from a few potplants here and there. Right ahead of him was a desk, with a computer and phone, a man sitting in a chair behind the desk, a bored expression on his face.

So this was the famous Mr. Edelstein then?

"Ah, hello Mr. Edelstein. I'm Arthur Kirkland, but I'm sure you've already heard of me from Feliciano. Is it OK if I take a seat?" Arthur asked, walking up to the editor. Edelstein opened his mouth to say something, but Arthur continued, before even a sound left the editor's throat. "Thank you."

Arthur sat down, without giving Edelstein a chance to say no or yes. Edelstein looked at Arthur shocked, but quickly recovered. Arthur looked the man in the eye. Edelstein was originally Austrian. He grew up in Switzerland and moved to America, after online-dating Elizabeta Hérdeváry for five years, to meet her for the first time and marry her. He also moved to the USA, in foolish hope, that he'd find a childhood friend he'd lost contact with, Vash Zwingli and-

Wait... The guy that worked at the family corner shop across the park of his street? How interesting. How horrible, that the two still hadn't found each other yet, despite being in the same corner of the world. Arthur had to bite back a laugh at cruel fate, as he waited for Edelstein to finally continue.

"Aren't you nervous?" Edelstein asked, completely surprised by Arthur's relaxed attitude. He then eyed the Brit suspiciously. Ah. Edelstein had already had two interviews, with two people Feliciano suggested, namely Francis Bonnefoy and Gilbert Beilschmidt. Both had come in completely self-confident... Wait, Bonnefoy and Beilschmidt were Allure and Red Blitz, right?

Those two were complete arses! Oh dear, Edelstein probably thought that he was like them. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear... _Don't panic Kirkland_! _Do something!_

"If I'm honest, I am a little, but it's just another day in my life. If you want to reject me, I'm sure you'll have a good reason." Arthur replied, still looking Edelstein in the eye. Oh, good. That was the right thing to say. Overconfident arse no longer equalled Arthur Kirkland. Only Bonnefoy and Beilschmidt.

Edelstein nodded and asked his next question. "What makes you want to become a journalist?"

"I would like to write for a living and most writer's tend to get somewhere by being a journalist first." Oh dear, that wasn't a good answer. Flags were shooting up, as Edelstein blankly emitted his thoughts to Arthur. Oh dear, how could he rescue the situation? Turn the person interviewing him, into the person being interviewed? Actually, that might work...

"Does that satisfy your curiosity?" Arthur asked, leaning back, trying his best to keep a neutral expression. Edelstein sighed, and looked at the computer screen sitting on his desk.

"Well... No..."

"Why, what should make one want to become a journalist in your opinion?" Arthur asked. "What made _you_ want to become a journalist? Or, as you are now an editor, an editor?"

"Well..." Edelstein started, tapping his fingers on his desk, as he thought of an answer. Edelstein started recounting how he had hated the media when he was little, because it manipulated and twisted the truth for their own purposes. He wanted to start a newspaper company that lacked lies and only offered the truth and hard, cold facts.

Which he did. And even until today, New Heta Papers was considered one of the best newspapers in New Pond City. He also explained how he enjoyed writing and also enjoyed getting people to actually _think_ about their actions. He found that in journalism, he could do both, however, when he changed position from journalist to editor, he no longer had the chance to correct people's irrational opinions.

Sometimes, Edelstein wished he could be a mere journalist again, but as the boss of the company, and executive editor, he had the power to seek out journalists that only sought to tell everyone the truth and not to gossip or spread rumours...

Despite missing the writing, of course.

"So, you think most newspapers are just greedy, and write what they think will sell?"

"Yes, I do think so."

"But Mr. Edelstein, you yourself have been described as a greedy man. Do you consider yourself greedy?"

"No! I am most certainly _not_ greedy! I admit I'm a little frugal, but that's all! I don't like anything going to waste, OK? That's part of the reason why New Heta Papers is printed on recycled paper! It may not be cheap, but it's cheaper than killing off half the rainforest! Do you know how expensive it would be to replant all those damn trees again?"

"Ah, so New Heta Papers is an eco-friendly newspaper?"

"Of course it is! There's more profit in making things eco-friendly anyway! Most people have gone into a green-peace mood and want to protect the planet despite their lack of change in the way they live. While they continue to live like pigs that waste _everything, _they would very much like to believe that they're being eco-friendly and fool themselves into thinking, that buying mere recycled paper will make the world a better place!"

"I see you really don't like wasting things."

"Yes, you got that right." Edelstein steamed, slouching in his chair, looking away from Arthur and pouting like a little child.

"So tell me, Mr. Edelstein... Why did you take the time to interview me then? Isn't it wasteful to spend precious company time on something as trivial as a job interview? Especially when you know you're not going to employ me anyway? After all, you haven't got any openings right now, have you?"

"Well, yes, while it is admittedly wasteful to have a job interview with you, I could not say no to Feliciano... When he wants something, he'll go on and_ on_ about it. I swear, he even got a bunch of anorexics to eat his pasta, because he wouldn't stop _whining_. Not that that was a bad thing I guess, but still..."

"So, you were manipulated by Feliciano into wasting time?"

"I... I guess so. Yes." Edelstein replied, giving out a heavy sigh.

"But why? As said, you have no job openings. Unless the guy you're interviewing is incredibly good, you won't hire him. So why give a job interview, when you know you'll only say no?"

"If you're going to pretend to have a fair job interview, you should at least do it as realisitically as possible." Edelstein replied, before silencing, his eyes widening in realisation. He blinked a few times and then turned his gaze to Arthur, an expression of surprise on his face.

"Did... Did you just interview me?"

"What? Me? No... I mean, this interview is about me, and not you, am I correct?" Arthur replied, failing to hide his smile. Edelstein gaped at him, before regaining his neutral expression. Edelstein was still impressed though, much to Arthur's relief.

Roderich looked at his clock, realising the interview was almost over. He couldn't ask Arthur any more questions, he was out of time. Arthur stood up and shook Edelstein's hand.

"I see the interview's almost over. It was a pleasure meeting you Mr. Edelstein. Do call me if I have or haven't got the job. Here's my number." Arthur said, handing Edelstein a little piece of paper with a friendly smile on his face, before turning to leave.

"... But I'm supposed to end the interview!" Edelstein called out after him, as Arthur opened the door. Arthur looked behind himself and gave the editor another smile.

"Hey, part of being a journalist is being able to control a situation, isn't it? How else will you get the truth out of corperation bosses, who have lied about what they did with a few million dollars? Despite them actually being in control, you need to fool them into believing, they're not in control. Anyway, as said, Mr. Edelstein, it was a pleasure meeting you. I hope to hear from you soon."

And with that, Arthur closed the door and left. He had a huge smile on his face, as he walked back to the lift. He had most deffinitely gotten the job. Or at least, Edelstein would point him to another place in search of work. He clicked his fingers and pressed the down button, closing his eyes happily. That was one part of his plan done. That was one step closer to his goal.

He entered the lift and went home smiling, something that Kirkland wasn't famous for.

* * *

The Magician sat on Grayson's roof, his legs kicking back and forth. He had observed the family and found that Roger Grayson, the guy that had tried and failed to mug him three years ago, had gone and gotten his problems solved.

All their kids were alive and well, there were no more money problems and the government was supporting them now. Also, Roger Grayson's marriage had been rescued through the tiny fixes Arthur had made in his life. Though Arthur hadn't known about his marriage problems on the night of the failed mugging, it had become quite clear after a while.

Some how, Arthur felt very relieved to know, that the Grayson parents were still married. He didn't remember much of his parent's divorce, but he did see the effects of it and he remembered sometimes moaning about how he missed his mummy and crying about her, when he was little. He sighed, pushing out the thoughts of his mother.

He was currently dressed as the Magician. Thoughts of his private life had no place in his mind, at least, not currently anyway. He adjusted his newsboy cap and looked into the skies, admiring the star-filled night. It had taken a good part of the early evening to locate the family, but he eventually did. And now he sat on their roof, without their knowledge, dressed in a casual version of the Magician's costume.

A black newsboy cap, his usual black trenchcoat and slacks, a more casual black waistcoat and white shirt, with no bow tie in sight. Some people didn't recognise him as the Magician like this, which he supposed was sort of good. It meant that if a super hero spotted him per chance, they may not attack him on the spot.

The reason he was dressed differently, was because the Magician's usual costume was made for the actual "show". When he was busy practicing or snooping, he didn't want to look fancy and all that jazz. He wanted to look normal and blend in, to an extent. So he dressed differently.

The Magician got up and casually jumped off the roof, his feet touching the balcony's gate, before falling gracefully onto the garage roof to the ground, onto the streets. He stretched and looked around. A child opposite of the street was gaping at him with giant saucers for eyes, absolutely awe-inspired. The Magician gave the child a wink and a salute, before running off, back into the city.

It was good to know that average folk wouldn't be able to notice him if he snuck around, but now he needed a larger challenge. He needed to relearn how to sneak around the proffesionals. Also, he needed to start picking up on the gossip again.

He had already picked up a few things about the super villain world now, but it wasn't much. He had found out something about some new villain from Russia called "Cold Bite" and another more or less new villain called "The Great Dragon".

They were the big names in New Pond City and both were down right now. What worried Arthur most about these new supers, was that they seemed to have changed how super villains in New Pond City work. From what he manage d to pick up, super villains now owned territory, in which they were allowed to run around.

If you agreed to let a super villain, that owned a territory, boss you around, you were allowed to go anywhere within that territory. Which meant that you had pretty much become the super villain's sidekick, minion, partner, whatever.

You could also gain territory by challenging the boss of a territory, by challenging the _owner_. And right now, the only owners were Cold Bite and the Great Dragon. Both of which had given their territories names.

The Frozen Stars and the Dragons. That was all that was left. And this worried Arthur greatly. The Magician was a lone wolf and partnered up with no one. Three years ago, that was OK, seeing as most super villains were lone wolves too, however, now the game had changed.

This really wasn't good. The Magician would be going against both the Great Dragon and Cold Bite, both of which basically controlled the super villain world. Nothing happened there without their knowledge. Both were very, very powerful.

They practically ruled the city, not that either the public or the super heroes knew this. At the flick of their hands, all super villains in New Pond City would hunt the Magician down without second thought.

Arthur sighed again. He really needed to visit the Whisperer. The Whisperer was a neutral super, that served as an informant to anyone he thought was worthy. Often, these "worthy" people were people who treated cats well and brought something like a cat treat with them, to give the Whisperer.

You see, the Whisperer had cat telepathy and got all his information from cats. That was how he got so much information on everything and everyone. Animals picked up things most wouldn't even notice. The Whisperer even knew the secret identities of the supers, even the Magicians.

Had the Whisperer joined a side? He doubted it, seeing as the Whisperer had always declared himself a neutral party. Joining a team would mean releasing all his information to the owner, which would stop him being a neutral super.

So the Whisperer must have gone into hiding or something. Otherwise he would have been pressed into becoming part of either the Frozen Stars or the Dragons. Luckily, Arthur also knew the Whisperer's secret identity, so if he really needed information, he could always just seek out the Whisperer's normal self.

... But there was something that still bothered him. Cold Bite and the Great Dragon wouldn't suddenly become the criminal masters overnight, which they seemed to have done. Other than the new game rules, something else must have changed. Maybe he could ask the Whisperer that... Or he could try and find out more information by himself...

Sighing, Arthur sat down on the new rooftop he found himself standing on. This whole comeback might bring back more grief than pleasure...

... Wait, was he actually considering leaving everything be? Arthur shook his head. He must be losing his touch if he really was considering something like that!

Honestly, he shouldn't see the Frozen Stars and the Dragons as threats, but rather as...

As...

As a nice, big challenge...

* * *

**A/N**

**For those who don't know, "Schadenfreude" is a German word that's wormed its way into the English language. **

**Sorry for taking so long to update. Short explanation: Laziness, writer's block and school. But don't worry, my last test is on Tuesday, so I should be able to update again soon. As said, Magician is difficult for me to write, so don't expect fast updates. TT^TT Forever slow.  
**

**Thank you for twelve reviews. ^.^ Every new review makes me happy and makes me want to update asap. :P  
**


	5. Kirk the Kitten

The next day, Arthur got up early and prepared for his comeback a bit, before going to work. The day had been slow, with few customers and little excitement.

There had been so little to do, that Arthur had found himself playing a few matches of poker with Lovino, while waiting for customers to actually show up. They also talked to each other about social networking sites, agreeing that they were a pain and stupid.

Once Arthur finished his shift, he immediately headed to the New Pond Archives. A large portion of the Archives was established to record the history of the Supers in New Pond City, so it made sense to go there.

In the Archives, Arthur collected a few folders with newspaper articles on Supers, dating to upto three years ago, before finding a nice place to settle down and read through them. Sure, Arthur could easily do his research in his flat on his laptop, but nothing could ever replace what _real_ research felt like.

Flipping through papers in an ancient, library-like building could never be replaced by a few taps on a keyboard and a screen, that destroyed eyes if stared into too long. And the internet wasn't always overly helpful when it came to specific research. It was just useful for general knowledge.

Arthur felt a bit all over the place as he read the oldest newspapers he had collected. Headlines such as "**Magician leaves City in peace for three weeks!**" or "**Is the Magician taking tea breaks?**" stung out at Arthur, the oldest articles being about the Magician suddenly disappearing in the middle of a heated fight with either a rival or an enemy or not turning up for a few weeks in a row.

As he went on, the interest in the Magician visibly disappeared, the last headlines about him being "**What happened to the Magician?**" and "**Is the Magician dead?**". He reread the articles from three years ago, and noted that to the public eye, it was like the Magician had faded away, died. Or Disappeared.

They really had no clue why he suddenly stopped turning up. Which was good. During the slow disappearance, no other villains tried to seize the title of "the most terrifying thing in New Pond City", which also served to confuse the public.

It would have made sense for the Magician to disappear if he were outmatched, however, no one had turned up to take his place. Power vacuum. Why hadn't anyone taken his place? He would have thought that the super villains would have jumped at the first chance to be the most feared villain, but apparently not.

Then again, with no explanation as to why the Magician disappeared in the first place, maybe they were too scared? That either the Magician would turn up and rip back his title from them by force or that something or someone was stopping the Magician, thus would stop them if they didn't back down?

That was probably the reason. It sounded like a good reason to not act up. So not only did the public not know why the Magician vanished, but it was similar with the villains. He put the newspapers to the side and carried on his reading.

At some point, the super villains realised that the Magician wouldn't turn up again, or at least, not any time soon and started trying to gain the title of best super villain. Of course, most of them were more brawl than brain, so no one could come up with a good master plan and become a real threat to New Pond City. Not that the brainy ones were any better.

For a few months, super villains squabbled over the title, causing super heroes to get considerably frustrated with them (during a fight, a villain would often forget he was fighting with a hero, because he was too busy arguing with another villain that wanted to fight against the hero).

The Great Dragon was the first villain to fill the power vacuum properly. No one knew from where he had come from and how long he had been around, which had been how he beat both heroes and villains alike. Lack of knowledge was a dangerous thing indeed.

Not much information was given about the Great Dragon in the newspapers, so Arthur would have to drop by the Whisperer and get some more information later. The Great Dragon was the first to construct a master plan which almost beat the heroes, had they not reunited to defeat him.

During the Magician's reign, the heroes had made a thing called "the Dream Union" to try and defeat him. It didn't work, but they kept other super villains under control this way. Looking at an earlier Newspaper, he noticed the headline "**Dream Union disbanded**".

It kind of saddened Arthur to know that they disbanded at one point. Apparently, even super heroes couldn't get along with each other. Oh well, supers were human too. Why expect them to be _better_ than humans and actually be _humane?_

He already knew they weren't. Time and time again he had been reminded of that. When will he finally start remembering that?

He continued reading. The Great Dragon started fighting supers on his "territory" and started changing the game rules there.

Arthur felt mild surprise when he read articles such as "**The Big Bad** **Black Ninja**" and "**Shiro Ninja vs. the Black Ninja, wtf?**" That confused him. How come the Black Ninja switched sides? He'd always been one of the more annoying supers, babbling on about decency, respect and honour.

He'd also been one of the few super heroes that didn't retire after being in the super hero business for ten years. Why throw it all away suddenly? He had been proud of being the "oldest and most wise hero around".

Arthur guessed there was more to it than simply saying "You know what? Fuck this, I wanna be a bad guy for once! All this shit about always being the good guy is getting on my nerves." The guy simply didn't tick that way.

Arthur sighed and pulled out a notebook from his satchel and made a list of things to ask the Whisperer about. For now he had two things. Both were relatively big pieces of information, so they would probably require quite a large payment.

Shortly after the Black Ninja switched sides, Super Villains started becoming fewer. Arthur started flipping through the papers to see if there was anything that hinted as to why this happened. And indeed, there were hints. Hints as big as the Sun.

"**Jeanne of Archer, an Angel sent from the heavens!**" and "**Jeanne of Archer, Jeanne d'Arc, two real heroines!**". An everyday hero.

And every effing day hero. She had become the head of the police department, and unlike previous police chiefs, she actually did something about the super villains. And she didn't even need a mask to take them down.

A normal woman, taking down super villains by the dozen? Arthur smiled slightly. It _was_ kind of like with Jeanne d'Arc. An ordinary girl, taking on French enemies (such as the English) and _defeating_ them? Simply amazing.

Hopefully this police chief wouldn't be _too_ much like Jeanne d'Arc though. He'd hate to imagine the policewoman being burnt at the stake, like poor Jeanne d'Arc... Arthur shuddered just thinking about it.

He'd have to meet this of Archer at some point. See how she ticks and how he can avoid sharing the same fate as other super villains. Why hadn't she bothered arresting the Magician yet anyway?

"**wth, Magician, y u a loser?**" Was the next article to hit his face, from about a year ago, when he first reappeared and... er... messed up. A bit.

It was a _planned_ mess up! He wanted to give them a feeling of false confidence! He had _totally planned that._

At least he could imagine why Archer hadn't bothered with the Magician yet. He was too unimportant to be taken seriously until the other threats were eliminated.

He'd have to be careful around the police chief. She was obviously very good at what she did and not stupid, unlike the rest of the general population. He decided he should look for a few newspaper articles on her later.

He continued researching. Cold Bite came into the scene a few weeks after Archer became a serious threat to super villains. Also, the Great Dragon started forming the Dragons around then, reassuring villains who surrendered to him that he'd bail them out of jail or fight for them.

Cold Bite became a powerful super villain relatively quickly, because of the new rules. Because he could be pretty ruthless, he took over whole territories in a matter of days and formed the Frozen Stars. Eventually, there were only two territories left, the Dragons and the Frozen Stars.

Of course, this information wasn't printed in the articles (the public and super heroes had NO IDEA how the super villain world worked). The reason Arthur knew, was simply because he noticed the logos on the costumes of the super villains. They had all started off differently, but after a while, small things changed, hinting that they had become part of a team. The Frozen Star members had a blue star somewhere on their costume and the Dragons had a Dragon wing somewhere. It was obvious to Arthur, but he wasn't sure if that was because of his Sight.

He sighed deeply, sinking into his thoughts on Cold Bite and the Great Dragon.

The Great Dragon's preferred weapons of choice was brains. Cold Bite's was brawls. Brain and brawl... Arthur frowned, realising the potential the two had, if they ever decided to team up. He would most deffinitely have to play them against each other, if he didn't want New Pond City to meet a gruesome and horrible fate.

... Not that he cared about what happened to the city or anything. He just hated the idea of not feeling safe within the four walls of his home. That was it. He didn't care for the citizens of New Pond City at all and really didn't give a damn about the young kids growing up so close to supers, both good and bad...

... Nope. He didn't care. Not at all.

So that explained how the Great Dragon and Cold Bite managed to get to the top so quickly. With Archer arresting so many villains, the "evil" supers got scared of getting caught and turned to any form of security. Also, they probably had difficulties keeping their territories, because of other, _larger_ territories with either one more powerful super villain or multiple super villains.

Essentially, the choice was either become part of a team or get arrested and thrown in jail (for what would seem like the rest of their miserable lives). Arthur frowned, disliking both options. He obviously would have to be incredibly elusive if he wanted to stay out of any teams or jails, let alone to stay on top of the game, if he should ever get that far.

By the looks of things, being a lone wolf would be incredibly difficult, seeing as he was surrounded by packs. He frowned, and continued reading, deep in thought. He'd have to find out how aggressive the two territories were towards each other.

That would mean making a set-up to see their reactions... He'd have to do this pretty soon. Also, he should find out in which territory the Rose of Britain was being kept. Then he'd know which villains were likely to also have an eye for the artefact.

He should also check if the super heroes fighting styles had changed at all. He picked up a newspaper that was only a few months old.

"**The Dreamed Reunion of the Dream Union no longer a Dream**!" Well... That didn't say much. According to the the article, the newly reunited Dream Union functioned differently from the old one. Instead of having one large group, it was split into many small groups made of different heroes, such as the Bad Touch Trio, the Axis (wait... what?) or the Twins-

"Hello~? Artie? Bro, I'm talkin' to you! Stop ignoring me dude!" Arthur snapped out of his thoughts, snapping his notebook shut and looking up quickly to see who had intruded his thoughts. He resisted jumping out of his seat when he came face to face with America.

However, being dressed as boring old Arthur Kirkland, he found the only intelligible thing leaving his mouth was an educated "er..."

"Hey Arts, what's up?" America asked, grinning at him happily.

Arthur finally refocused his mind, realising that America was here as "normal" Alfred F. Jones, who was still unaware that Arthur was really the Magician, an old arch-enemy of his (until he threw the game away, of course).

Alfred. Not America. No danger present.

"Er..." Arthur repeated, still in a bit of shock.

"Gee man, you're not very chatty are you?" Alfred asked, still smiling like a little kid on christmas day, for some bizarre and strange reason. Arthur frowned and put the old newspapers aside, looking up at Alfred.

"My name is Arthur. It is not Artie. Or Arts. Or any other stupid name your tiny brain comes up with. It's _Arthur_." Arthur automatically said, confusing Alfred slightly. Oh yes, of course. Alfred hadn't done anything to Arthur, so there was no reason why Arthur should behave so coldly to him.

Then again, since... Then... Arthur really didn't like being called anything but Arthur.

"Dude, there's no need to get all fired up about a nickname. It's just a name ...But if it really upsets you that much... " Alfred said, rolling his eyes, as if _Arthur_ were the one behaving silly here, and not Alfred.

Arthur didn't reply, settling for a glare, that Alfred seemed unable to pick up on.

"Dude, what're you doing here? 'Never expected to see you of all people here!" Arthur frowned and started packing.

"It's none of your business." He said, getting out of his chair.

"Oh. Well, OK." Alfred replied, looking away down the hall, as if he wanted to be somewhere else.

"And may I ask what _you_ are doing here? I would have thought a place you would belong in is the arcade rather than the Archives? Or a kindergarten might be more fitting..." Why, oh _why_ did Arthur say that? He could have just said "bye" and left it with that!

Was he trying to drive himself insane?

"Eh... I'm in college. I'm studying history and my prof asked me to pick up a few things from here. So yeah." Alfred explained, shrugging. Arthur didn't respond and packed his things up.

"Well, I guess it was nice seeing you again, but I must be on my way." Arthur said, looking at Alfred with a stern gaze.

"Yeah, sure! See ya again soon!" Alfred replied, hurrying off as fast as he'd come. Arthur continued frowning and went to put his collected folders away. Best not to hang around too long with America in the building, after all.

Alfred had only talked to him because of Feliciano. The Italian must have noticed Arthur's seeming lack of friends and social activities and had asked his friends to try and befriend the Brit.

Arthur's frown became bigger at the thought of that. He didn't need someone looking out for him and making sure he didn't go insane. He should have known better than to accept the waiting job, when he found out that he'd be working alongside Veloce of all people.

He sighed, having put the folders away and headed out of the archives. He opened his notebook and looked it over. He wanted background information on the Great Dragon and Cold Bite. He also wanted to know why the Black Ninja switched sides (something that made no sense).

Next to that, he hadn't had the chance to find out anything about this Jeanne of Archer and now that he knew America visited the archives regularly (that information he had read off America's face), he doubted he ever would.

His list of things to do had also grown longer. He now wanted to find out how hostile the Dragons and the Frozen Stars were to each other and see if the fighting techniques of regular super heroes had changed. That would equal in setting up quite a few traps and false-leads. Was he really already prepared to do all that?

Also, he should find out how Cold Bite and the Great Dragon acted around each other. Did they pronounce each other archenemies or simply as competition? He had to know that too, if he wanted to play them against each other.

He sighed and closed his notebook, heading home.

* * *

It was evening now. Once Arthur had gotten home, he had prepared for his comeback and planned a few set-ups for villains and heroes.

Now he stood in front of Karpusi Villa, a place the Karpusis (or Karpusi, seeing as there was only one Karpusi left) had lived in, since the 20th century, a still fairly modern place anyone would want to live in.

He stood at the gate fidgeting a bit, his hands wrapped tightly around his satchel, as he looked up and down the gate. After entering this place (assuming he got in), he could no longer stop himself becoming an active villian again.

He could just continue being Arthur Kirkland. Normal, boring, dull Arthur Kirkland. But... No. Being a super villain meant he got to live a little. He needed to live a little. Otherwise he may as well go and join Lizzy. He sighed, checking his watch once again.

He'd been standing outside for five minutes now, wondering whether or not to ring the doorbell. He shook himself out and let out a deep breath, before closing his eyes as he encouraged himself to ring the doorbell. He rang.

"_Mr. __Karpusi is not expecting any guests this evening. Who are you?_" Came a near immediate response. Arthur swallowed and hurriedly cleared his throat.

"Arthur Kirkland. I would like to speak with Mr. Karpusi. We have an overdue meeting." Arthur explained, keeping his voice steady. There was a long pause, before the man finally responded.

"_You have permission to enter._ _Mr Karpusi will be welcoming you in the hallway_." The voice replied, letting the gates to the villa open. Arthur hesitated once more, then looked behind himself. On the opposite side of the street was a grand mansion, with a family picknicking in its gardens.

Frowning, Arthur turned away and entered, thanking the voice for letting him in. He breathed as evenly as he could as he walked up to the front door and carefully opened it, looking in.

The hallway was grand, the end of it leading to a large staircase, covered in a red carpet, which then split off into two different directions. A large portrait of the first Karpusi in America, a woman named Melissa Karpusi hung just where the staircase split off, making the place seem all the grander, in an awkward kind of way.

The floors and walls were made of marble and the ceiling reached two stories high, a large chandelier hanging from the top. Many balls must have been held here, probably back in the rocking 20s, when throwing wild parties had been a common, not to mention popular, thing.

Finally, standing at the foot of the staircase, Arthur spotted the Whisperer, surrounded by his usual cats, a frown etched on his face.

"Hello Magician. How have you been fairing?" He asked almost coldly, while stroking a cat he had named General Kitty. Luckily, the Whisperer seemed unable of being truelly cold, unless dealing with the likes of Sadik Adnan.

Still, the knowledge that the Whisperer wasn't angry with him didn't calm Arthur's nerves any less.

"Hello Whisperer. I've been doing fine." Arthur responded, closing the door behind himself. Heracles sighed deeply and beckoned the Brit to follow him. He walked up the stairs, into a living room and poured himself and Arthur a glass of water, placing them both on a glass coffee table.

"I hope you are aware I no longer am in the supers business, right?" The man asked, squeezing a few yawns into his sentence. Arthur nodded, letting out a yawn himself. Damn the man and his infectious yawns.

"I know, but I also know that you're actually just lying low, in order to protect yourself from territory owners." Arthur replied. Heracles sighed.

"You'd better not blackmail me or anything. I'm not going back to being a known super. When you vanished from the scene, the game rules were changed. The super world no longer has a place for neutral supers. You can no longer stay neither good or bad. You have to pick a side now." Heracles explained, settling himself down on a large, plush sofa, taking up all room on it.

"Have a seat." Heracles offered. Arthur nodded and looked around for somewhere to sit, other than the sofa. Heracles pointed at his coffee table, which had a platter of food on it. "Hungry?"

"No thank you, I'm fine."

"Suit yourself." Heracles replied, picking up the food and feeding it to one of his cats. Arthur looked around the room in search of another chair or sofa, but found nothing but a beanie bag. Frowning at the indignity, Arthur did his best to sit down, while not feeling utterly undignified and completely belittled.

"So, why are you here?" Heracles asked, after feeding some of his pets, cooing at them a bit, so that Arthur felt a bit misplaced and awkward.

"I need some information. Despite you not being in the scene any more, I doubt you could find a hobby that was interesting enough to keep you busy the entire day. I know that you live off the royalties of the generations before you and basically have _nothing_ to do all day."

Heracles nodded in agreement, letting out another yawn. Arthur also yawned.

"Agreed, you're right. Nice deduction. But why would you want information? You haven't exactly been a great super villain in the last three years, you even disappeared for an entire year." Arthur frowned and took out his notebook from his satchel.

He flipped it open and huffed.

"I plan on changing that soon." Arthur muttered, before clearing his throat. A cat jumped onto his lap, but Arthur didn't react, stroking it absentmindedly. Despite it being three years since the Magician last looked for the Whisperer, he still managed not to scream whenever a cat suddenly jumped on him for the heck of it.

Those thousands of meetings with the Whisperer sure helped a lot.

"I want to know why the Black Ninja switched sides and I want to know the background history of Cold Bite, the Great Dragon and Jeanne of Archer."

"I don't give information that may hurt non-supers." Heracles automatically responded, not even looking up at Arthur.

"I swear I won't use it to hurt her. I need to know how dangerous she is to me, as a villain."

"Go find out yourself. You're good at finding things out anyway." Heracles replied, still not willing to release that kind of information.

"OK, OK. Do you know anything about Cold Bite before he came here? The Great Dragon? Or at least something about the Black Ninja." Heracles frowned and closed his eyes, as if to meditate. Arthur looked down at the cat in his lap, noticing it was a scottish fold kitten.

He smiled at it and cooed it a little, unable to resist the large kitty eyes (and eyebrows?) of the baby animal.

"And who are you then?" He cooed, picking it up. It hissed in reply and tried clawing Arthur. Luckily, its claws hadn't developed yet, so the claws felt like pen tips, rather than sharp needles.

Still, Arthur reacted and let the kitten go, which hurriedly hid under the table. Heracles looked up and laughed, having seen the short display in the corner of his eye.

"I've named that one Kirk. He reminds me of someone you see." Heracles explained, smiling widely, as he fished under the table for Kirk. The kitten reacted and hissed, but eventually settled into its owner's hands.

Arthur pouted. "Kirk as in Kirkland?" Arthur asked, raising an impressive eyebrow, slightly confused and frustrated at the name. Heracles smiled and nodded.

"Same personality and it's also a British breed... Even if it did take a British and American breed to keep this breed alive." Heracles replied. "Sort of like with you. You're British, but you're also influen-"

"Don't. Finish. That sentence." Arthur bit out, picking up another cat and stroking that one instead. Heracles smiled and put Kirk on his lap.

"I'd give you Kirk, but he's actually quite a rare cat. He's got these amazing green eyes you know. Just like you. Again. And have you seen these black fur spots? They're like eyebrows! Like your ones in fact... It's almost like he's you in cat form." Heracles mused, scratching the kitten behind its ears, as it purred happily.

"Well, I'm quite happy not to have Kirk as a pet. Firstly, because it would be weird to keep an animal that is supposedly similar to me and secondly, I don't want to have a constant spy around me."

"Huh?"

"I know you've got cat telepathy. Kirk would be reporting to you regularly." Arthur huffed, trying to scowl at Heracles, but only pouting like a little kid who didn't want to go to school. Heracles smiled again.

"I can't help it if cats aren't loyal to their owners." He said, snuggling the kitten, before feeding it a treat. Arthur frowned and gave the cat in his own lap some food from the table, while looking at the cats around himself.

How many were there? Twenty? Probably...

"Wait, if you named that cat after me, did you name any other ones after people?" Heracles shrugged and placed Kirk back on the ground.

"I'm sure you'd find out by yourself anyway. As you always do." Arthur looked around, then looked at the cat on his lap. It was white and had long fur. Maybe it was of the Persian breed?

Arthur frowned, stroking the cat, already knowing its name. Despite this knowledge, Arthur hesitantly asked "What is this ones name?"

"Bon-Bon." Heracles replied. Oh. Of bloody well course.

Bon-Bon as in Bon-Bonnefoy, a certain French man that happened to be Allure. He didn't really see how Bon-Bon resembled that Frog in anyway. He stroked it, then cleared his throat.

"We're getting off topic. I brought a few things to help you care for your cats by the way." Arthur continued, packing out some cat treats and a few other things that helped looked after cats and kittens, such as proper food. Heracles smiled and picked up one of the cat treats, holding it to General Kitty.

"What do you think?" he asked. The cat started knawing at the treat, despite it still being wrapped up, desperately trying to get the wrapper off. Other cats started herding around the objects Arthur had brought with him. Bon-Bon jumped off Arthur's lap and also took a look.

"I guess the payment is high enough." Heracles said after a pause. "I would have wanted more for so much information... This usually only covers the Great Dragon and some of Cold Bite's history, but if you need this information to get back into the scene, I guess I can give you a bargain. High time some excitement happened around here anyway."

"I thought Cold Bite and the Great Dragon had been beaten by the Dream Union recently."

"That's not even big news, let alone excitement. Bad guys get beaten all the time. It always takes something special to stir excitement up. At the moment the only thing around is gossip. The super world is as boring as a dime." Heracles complained.

"OK, so spill. First of all, the Great Dragon. What was his life like before he became a known villain?"

"He was the crime boss of the Chinese Mafia in China, but was eventually found out by the government. He abandoned his group and fled to Japan, but quickly fled on to America, when he realised that the Japanese criminal groups, both super and non-super, wouldn't accept a foreigner, especially a _Chinese_ foreigner, as their leader in a hurry. He already knew some English, so he was on to a good start." Heracles said, shrugging.

"It's not really that interesting though. Just another power-hungry bad guy that got lucky."

"Hm... I see... And Cold Bite?"

"Ah, you see, _he's_ more interesting! Not much, but still. He comes from Russia and used to be married to a Dutch lady. They had a daughter together, but then the mother divorced him and took their daughter with her. He'd always been bitter about that afterwards.

He became more and more bitter about the loss of his wife and daughter, until he started hating people with seemingly perfect lives. That's when he unlocked his power. He became known as генерал зима, which for us means, General Winter.

He murdered thousands of people, yet also saved many lives. Some time ago, his ex-wife died and his daughter demanded he come and meet her. After meeting his daughter for the first time since the divorce, he moved to America. He took over his ex-wife's business and became the super villain of New Pond City, because of his hate towards "happy" people. And that's all there is to Cold Bite."

"Intruging." Arthur replied. "Yes... So he's aggressive towards people leading supposedly happy lives?" Heracles shrugged in reply, picking up General Kitty and placing him on his lap, shooing poor little Kirk away. Kirk hissed and went back to Arthur, curling up on his lap.

"You'd need more cat treats than that to find out who Cold Bite attacks." Heracles said, petting General Kitty lovingly on the head. Arthur rolled his eyes and let out a deep breath.

"OK. So, what about the Black Ninja? Why did he switch sides?"

"That? Well, that's a little more complicated..." Heracles started, glad that he could finally reveal a deeply hidden secret.

* * *

**So all has been revealed. Cold Bite is General Winter, Greece is the Whisperer. The revelations actually happened earlier than I expected. Congrats if you guessed correctly. ^.^ Still more secrets and revelations to come though! (such as the Great Dragon and the Black Ninja, but they're kinda obvious and will be known soon...) :P  
**

**Also, was Greece OOC? I hope not, but it's possible.  
**

**Oh, and yes. Greece totally owns all Nekotalia kitties. ;P ... On hindsight, that sounds kinda... wrong...  
**

**Melissa Karpusi is the name I decided to give to Greece's mother, Ancient Greece. Melissa is a Greek name that was first used in Ancient Greece, so I guess that's why. :)  
**

**Review please?  
**


	6. Double A's and the Frog

Heracles leaned back on the sofa, closing his eyes in thought. Some of his cats climbed onto the sofa next to him and curled up, eyeing Arthur warily.

Finally, Heracles continued.

"In most simple terms, the Black Ninja was blackmailed into becoming a bad guy." Heracles summarised after a moment. "He was blackmailed by the Great Dragon." He yawned and opened his eyes to look at Arthur with slight boredom.

"Blackmailed? Is that all?" Arthur asked confused. That didn't make sense. Blackmail could only work for so long after all. Arthur had learnt that in an awfully painful way.

"Well, maybe blackmail is a poorly chosen word..." Heracles mused, trying to come up with a better word, but ultimately failed. He shrugged and continued.

"It happened some time ago, when the Great Dragon was establishing his territory and rewriting the rules. Back then, he was a relatively new villain and was gathering as much information as he could. He tried getting information from me, but he didn't treat cats well enough. He hated them. And they hated him." Suddenly, all the cats started miaowing, as if in agreement.

The moment was incredibly surreal to Arthur.

"So he tried in other ways. As he gathered information about super heroes, he got interested in the Black Ninja for multiple reasons, such as Blackie's power or how long he'd been around in the business, but the largest reason for his interest, was that both speak and are Chinese."

"Common ground in nationality, hm?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"I knew that having nationalities would be someones downfall one day." Heracles laughed at that and once again nodded in agreement.

"I think, if you look in the history books, you'll find nationalities already _have_ been someones downfall." The Greek replied to Arthur, who in turn gave Heracles a small and quick smile, before returning to his neutral gaze.

"Anyway, initially, the Great Dragon realised relatively quickly that the Black Ninja wanted nothing to do with him. However, he also knew how he could get the Black Ninja to join his team."

"Blackmail."

"Yeah. Sort of. As I'm sure you know, the Black Ninja felt especially close to Shiro Ninja. He treated Shiro like a younger brother. Although... Shiro doesn't seem to return the feelings... But then again, he seems to natrually be distant from everyone... Anyway, the Great Dragon, knowing one of the Black Ninja's "weaknesses", decided to... sort of... er... Poison Shiro Ninja."

"Poison?" Arthur asked alarmed, jerking his head upwards, causing Kirk to hiss and claw him again. Arthur frowned and shooed the kitten off his lap, only for another cat to take its place. This one was rather heavy for a cat, quite large (probably the size of a dog), fluffy and called Hero...

Oh heck no.

"America." Arthur whined, as the cat seemed to actually _grin_ at him. Arthur hesitated when he saw that and bit his lip... Well, he hadn't fallen down a rabbit hole recently, so he doubted he had a cheshire cat on his lap.

"Yeah. That one's named after America. He's called Hero. Anyway, no, it's not poison. It's... Nanobots."

"Nanobots? But-"

"Yeah, they're not well known, but they're already pretty well developed by the Väinä Company. You know, that Finnish Company that developes technology for security?"

"Yes. I remember. It's kind of a favourite victim company for super villains, seeing as it has so many... useful items." Arthur replied, having raided the place several times before (and quite guiltily too, seeing as he often saw the aftermath through Tino, who he used to tutor at college...).

"Anyway, these Nanobots, developed by the Väinä Company, were programmed by the Great Dragon to attack the red blood cells of their host when activated, meaning they would kill their host... While inactive, they are barely detectable, not even our own immune system can detect the bots..."

"... You mean, Shiro has a self-destruct button? And it's in the hands of the Great Dragon?" Arthur asked alarmed. And here he thought he was the only bad guy carrying fate-changing secrets around with him.

Heracles sighed and nodded, an air of depression surrounding him.

"I hope that button never gets used. Shiro is very nice to cats. He likes them a lot." Heracles explained, stroking a little kitten that had settled itself by his feet. It was black and white. And called Tama...

Why did it remind him of Shiro Ninja (aka Kiku Honda)?

Arthur stared grimly at Heracles, before directing his attention to Hero, who purred happily in his lap.

"So... Let me guess the rest of the story. The Great Dragon threatened to activate the nanobots in Shiro, if the Black Ninja refused to join his cause. Not wanting any harm to come to Shiro, the Black Ninja agreed. Since then, the Black Ninja has unwillingly been working for the Great Dragon."

"Yes."

"But why is the Black Ninja now Shiro Ninja's archenemy, if the Black Ninja doesn't want harm to come to Shiro? I don't see how punching him in the face is exactly keeping him out of harm's way." Arthur asked. Heracles sighed deeply.

"Think about it Magician. How and when would _you_ use a self-destruct button, planted in a super?"

"Well, when the super starts getting in my way or- oh. The Black Ninja is making sure that Shiro isn't a big threat to the Dragons; in order to make sure the Great Dragon doesn't lose his temper with Shiro and activate the nanobots..."

Heracles nodded. Arthur frowned and looked at the floor.

"... Blackie must really hate his life, huh?"

"Yes. He does."

"... He can't keep any secrets from the Great Dragon."

"Yes."

"Wouldn't that mean he should have revealed secret identities of super heroes by now, including his own?"

"No. Despite the large change in the villain world, one rule has remained in tact. You don't bother a super's private life, they don't bother yours." Heracles explained.

"... Well, thank you for the information Whisperer. I appreciate this and it certainly helps a lot. Does... Does anyone else know about the nanobots?"

"No. The Great Dragon thinks it's only him and Blackie who know about it. Really, it's just us four. And the cats."

Arthur nodded and tried to get up, only to realise how _heavy _Hero was.

"Oh bloody hell. Even as a sodding cat he can keep me down with just his bloody weight! Darn, why can't he go on a damn diet for once..."

"Well, that _is_ a cat you know. They do as they please..."

* * *

Arthur went home that evening, his mind surrounded with a lot of new information. Despite wanting to drink in celebration for now knowing so much, he resisted the temptation.

He couldn't afford to go drinking when he was rebuilding skills and preparing for something big. It meant he would be stuck in bed for who knows how long, when he should be doing something else.

Also, he had to go to work the next day. Having a hangover was not ideal for work, especially when you had to serve rude customers.

In the end, the Whisperer had given him more information than Arthur had asked for, despite leaving out certain bits. What was that cat man up to?

Sighing, he let his head rest on the sowing machine he was currently using. He was finishing the suit off relatively quickly.

At this rate he would have it finished in a weeks time, maybe even a few days. Then again, he had gathered the necessary materials unnervingly quick, through both morally correct and incorrect methods.

He looked his newly finished shirt over. Unlike other shirts, this one should be more durable than others, and was also bullet-proof and fire-proof. It had been difficult to come across such material, but luckily, that luxurious tailor shop in Uptown New Pond was still open to very rich customers who feared being shot in the back and the like.

Also, the shirt stretched to an extent, so he could move around in it, freely and flexibly, something neither a bought nor tailored shirt could do. Well, unless you specifically asked for the tailored shirt to be flexible.

Arthur got up and put the sowing gear and suit away. He still needed to do some things around the house, such as reading and responding to Peter's letter or paying the bills. He also needed to clean the flat and repair a few of his socks.

Arthur fell down at his desk, opening Peter's letter and reading it. He read over the usual preteen ramblings and usual praises about how great Tino and Berwald were and how rubbish Arthur was and how he missed Arthur and was looking forward to seeing him in the summer-

Arthur paused. Summer? Already? He turned to the calender and got up. He had completely forgotten that Peter was coming back to see him during his summer holidays. Arthur looked anxiously through his calender, flipping through all the summer months, until he reached August, when he visibly relaxed.

He sighed in relief, finding that Peter was coming back in August and not July. It didn't cross with his plans for the Rose of Britain, which was, by the way, a huge relief. If Peter were to come back in July, he might as well stop trying to get the Magician back on track. Peter had always had a habit of snooping around in places he didn't belong and digging his nose into issues that didn't concern him.

He remembered all those close calls he had had, back when Peter was still living with him. Quite literally, the boy had often been just _inches_ away from some hardcore evidence, that proved that Arthur was the Magician. Arthur frowned and looked at his bedroom in thought.

His room was essentially his "evil lair", if you could really call it that. Before Peter had come into his life, evidence of him being the Magician had been sprawled all over the room, on the bed, on the walls, on the bookshelf, _everywhere_. Now that Peter had come and gone... Well, evidence was still visible, but only if you gave it a second glance...

Arthur sighed. That wasn't good enough. He would have to hide his stuff a lot better soon. Either that, or risk getting caught. And getting caught would just be unprofessional.

The way he was living now, even a complete stranger could realise that Arthur was the Magician. He sort of left everything lying around, from his unfinished suit (which was hanging in his wardrobe with his other usual clothing) to his notes and plans for multiple things, such as forcing the Frozen Stars and Dragons to confront each other or the blueprints to the building he was planning on invading (these were lying on his desk).

Sighing, Arthur shook his head and walked off to look for his bills and the letter from Peter.

After all, Peter wouldn't be around for another few months, plus a few weeks, so he didn't have to worry about the younger Kirkland brother snooping around until much later. And since Arthur didn't plan on having any guests around, ever, he would concentrate on bitter sweet revenge and bucket loads of fun.

* * *

It was the next day, or more precisely, it was evening. During the day, nothing had happened, other than work, so there was no point in mentioning much of it.

Arthur looked at the school building he was approaching, while he nervously tapped his fingers on a playing card he had found in his coat pocket.

The Vargas family had realised that Arthur had been planning on joining an Alcoholics Anonymous group for a while now, but had never had the guts to actually join.

In the interest of helping him, they were now forcing the Brit to attend a meeting of a group they had chosen for him.

Arthur frowned, _really_ not wanting to get involved in any alcoholics anonymous group. He knew how these groups worked. You were completely open and honest to everyone, as to what your problems were and how you started drinking in the first place and acted like one huge, overemotional idiot.

Or, if you wanted to phrase it differently, you basically poured your heart and soul out to them, so that they could help and comfort you.

Right. As if Arthur would honestly ever do that. They were strangers after all.

_Complete_ strangers. He didn't even tell his stupid friends about himself, let alone a complete stranger (Arthur has friends?). Why would he tell anyone anyway?

It just didn't make any _sense_!

He chewed on his bottom lip and looked behind himself. Lovino shook his head, as if thinking "That poor, poor sod.", while Feliciano and Roma smiled at him encouragingly, Feliciano waving goodbye and Roma giving him a thumbs-up.

Arthur gave them a nervous smile and straightened his clothing. He could still run. He knew he may not be able to outrun the Vargas family, but he still could damn well try. He knew the city like the back of his hand, they, on the other hand, probably didn't even know how to walk home from here.

Yeah, he could try to outrun them. He could run. Run, far far away...

...

Oh, to hell with that. If he had wanted to run away so badly, he would have moved back to England years ago (financially it wouldn't have been possible, but nevermind). Huffing slightly in annoyance with himself, he entered the school building, in which the meeting was being held. Arthur was now wearing a deeper frown than before, as he tried his best not to show how nervous he was.

After all, this school wasn't simply any school. It was the high school he had attended after (sort of) running away from home. He simply hoped that none of his old teachers or fellow ex-students were there. It would be embarrassing to meet someone from his high school life again.

But then again... He doubted that anyone would recognise him anyway.

After all, he had kept himself to himself. He rarely spoke to anyone. The only contact he had ever made was in the form of glaring. He had refused to have his picture taken, even for the school albums and had remained completely socially inactive.

He had even changed his clothing style from street rebel to prim and proper gent, so that people would read him as an arrogant and boring snob, instead of that mysterious loner boy that all the girls in the school fancied (at least, that's the impression Arthur got half the time).

What the heck were the chances he'd bump into someone that could actually _remember_ the scary and silent British boy, that seemed to hate the whole world and wished the worst possible death upon any unfortunate soul that dared to even look at him?

He hoped it was zero, but his paranoia kept telling him it was a hundred percent (especially since this story was cliche-filled and the writer enjoyed torturing him).

Arthur walked down the hall, following the directions that had been set up for those attending the alcoholics anonymous meeting. He sighed as he looked around the familiar building, thinking of his short time here. It was in this building that he had gotten used to using his special gift, the Sight.

He had learnt to manipulate people here, he had learnt how they thought and ticked. He learnt how to get the bullies to stop bullying and how to get the popular kids to realise how _shallow_ they really were. He had essentially turned the whole school's social frame completely upside down, despite having rarely uttered a single word to anyone.

It had been so much fun messing with people's minds. But now his high school years were long over. Now he was part of the working world (and the super villain world, but no one ever bothered counting that).

Now, everything was different.

Arthur arrived at the door to the group and looked at his watch. He was early. Sighing, he knocked on the door and gently opened it nervously. The first thing he saw was a middle-aged man named Gary Smiths. He was a father of two, happily married and an ex-alcoholic.

... Roger Grayson was here too. He obviously wished to help alcoholics too. Nice to know some criminals became relatively decent members of society after being set on the right path. Let's hope that decent members of society don't become criminals quickly too.

"Er... Hello. I'm here for the meeting. I'm new here..." Arthur stammered, smiling nervously into the room. The two men turned around, noticing him.

"Oh, hello there. And you are?"

"Er... I'm Arthur."

"Pleasure to meet you Arthur. I'm Gary and that's Roger." Gary welcomed, waving over at Roger, while smiling at him. "Welcome to double-A as we like to call it. We're not starting for a while, seeing as the others have a tendency to be a little late, so feel free to sit down. You can talk with some people and get to know them if you want." Gary offered.

Arthur nodded and wandered off, allowing Gary to likewise wander off to do... something. Arthur wasn't entirely sure.

The Brit inspected the room to see who the attendees were. There were two women here, one was relatively old (fifties) and the other only a year younger than himself.

There were also three men, who were looking at him with mild curiosity. Arthur frowned, recognising them as Allure, Brillo and Red Blitz. So, they were alcoholics too? Of course, it would just be his luck that he'd be saddled with three of his favourite super heroes in the city.

Then again, knowing Feliciano was involved, did it really surprise him? He really should have expected this. Deciding he wanted to talk to neither the ladies or the heroes in the room, Arthur walked towards the chair set furthest away from them, plopping down in it and casting a weary gaze at the Bad Touch Trio, as they were now known in the super hero's world.

Sadly, it seemed that sitting far away from them would not mean avoiding them and therefore, ignoring them. Soon after, Brillo came over and sat down next to him.

"Hola amigo. I noticed you're new here. I'm Antonio." He introduced himself. Arthur let out a deep breath, wondering what to do.

Looking up at the Spaniard, he knew that Antonio didn't know anything about Arthur, not even his name, meaning that Feliciano hadn't told him anything about Kirkland, _meaning_ that them meeting was a complete coincidence and not planned by the Italian.

But on the other hand, the Spaniard and he were enemies, even if Antonio didn't know it.

Then again, Antonio was just being friendly. And Arthur couldn't exactly go around, ignoring supers in their alter egos all the time, right? He might get caught that way... And, while he shouldn't get into contact with his enemies, he _should _make sure they thought of him as an average citizen, with nothing outstandingly good or evil about him, right?

After a second of muling over his options, Arthur finally responded.

"I'm Arthur. How did you know I was new? Sorry, let me rephrase that. I meant, have you ever been to one of these meetings before?"

"Si, I have... But I don't come here because I'm an alcoholic. It's for my friends. Ever since I met Gilbert and Francis, we do everything together. We're like hermanos." Antonio explained, shrugging.

"Gilbert and Francis would be...?" Arthur asked, pretending to be confused (and failing).

"Oh, those two over there." Antonio pointed at them, both of which were now on their phones, probably texting each other for all Arthur cared.

"They look... Interesting." Arthur finally said, before returning his attention to Antonio. "So _they're_ alcoholics?"

"Yeah. They go partying often and it's affecting their daily life. Some other friends made them go."

"Ha, and here I thought I was the only one being forced..." Arthur mumbled, rolling his eyes.

"Hey, Arthur? Have we met before? Because, you look familiar..." Antonio suddenly asked. Arthur looked over to him and bit his lip nervously.

Could it be that Antonio recognised him as the Magician? Could it be that the Spaniard made or is making the connection between Kirkland and Magician?

Nah... Antonio had never fought with the Magician that often, so he could probably barely recognise him without his mask. And besides that, even if Antonio _did_ fight with the Magician (often enough to recognise him), Arthur doubted the super could make the connection. After all, despite his name being "Brillo" as in the Spanish word for "Bright", the poor guy was as dim as a candle.

Still, better divert the possibility of being _the Magician_ to something else.

"Well... Actually, yes. You remember that night, when Cold Bite got beaten by the Dream Union?"

"Si."

"Well, I went drinking that night, but then I bumped into Feliciano, who invited me to sit at your table. You and the other two were too drunk to even realise someone else had joined." Arthur explained.

"Oh! Wait... _Oh!_ Y_ou_ were that British guy that the others were angry with?" Antonio blubbered happily, which made Arthur frown.

"What do you mean-"

"Hey, Gilbert, Francis, you'll never guess who this is! It's that British guy the others were angry with, a couple days ago, you know, that one that left them with a bitter taste in their mouths!"

"Wirklich? What were the chances of that?"

"Huh?... He looks familiar..."

"Well, yeah, we've met him before, it's that guy that stormed out of the bar last week!"

"Hey, now wait here-"

"Oui, I know that, but I mean..."

"Wow. I thought they were exagerating when they mentioned his brows... Wow, they're so bi-"

"There's is nothing wrong with my eyebrows!"

"Hey Arthur, is it true you have no friends? Because, that's the impression I got from Feliciano and Romano when I talked to them-"

"There is _nothing_ wrong with having just a handful of friends! And will you all stop being so excited about me! It's like being in a kindergarten with kids on drugs!"

"Hm... They said he was really polite. I think they lied."

"Wait, if you knew us, then why did you let me introduce myself and them again?"

Arthur groaned and sunk into his chair. Gilbert and Antonio, quite happily, rambled on, ignoring the fact that Arthur wasn't communicating with them any more or that their French friend had been silent for a while.

"Wait, are you Arthur, as in Arthur _Kirkland_?" Francis suddenly asked. Arthur looked up at him confused.

"How did you-"

"Mon Dieu, it's Capt'n Brows! Rosbif!" Arthur stared blankly at Francis for a moment.

"... Wha-?" He finally said, after his brain had processed what he had heard, only to think "I must have heard that wrong".

How in the world did Allure know about that stupid nickname he'd been given in High School? Why was he calling him Rosbif, as if they were long, lost friends? Besides that, there was only one person he knew, who called him Rosbif, so why-

Oh fuck.

"_Frog_?" Arthur asked, his eyes widening. _How_ hadn't he realised this sooner? How hadn't he made the connection between Allure and Frog face? How hadn't he _realised_ that Francis Bonnefoy was also _that bloody damned frog from high school?_ How the bloody hell...?

"Wait, you two know each other?" Antonio asked.

"Wait, _that__'s _Capt'n Brows?" Gilbert asked.

Arthur's mouth unhung. How hadn't he realised? How had he even _forgotten_ what frog was actually called? ... Bloody stupid selective telepathy, stupid memory, stupid...

"Kesesese~! That's awesome! Should have realised the moment I saw those eyebrows who you were!" Gilbert suddenly laughed. Francis smiled and patted Arthur on the back.

"Ah, mon ami! How have you been? I didn't even realise it was you until-"

"Keep your bloody arm to yourself, you bloody wanker! And don't start acting like we are or ever were friends!" Arthur snapped.

"How come you two know each other?" Antonio repeated, still confused. Gilbert obviously knew what was going on, same as Arthur and Francis, but Antonio was out of the loop.

"Ah, Antonio, this here is Capt'n Brows-"

"My bloody name is _Arthur Kirkland _idiot!" Arthur interjected, stabbing Francis violently in the stomach. Francis gave him a pained smile and ruffled the Briton's hair.

"Ah, such short temper~" He said teasingly and quickly dodged the next violent jab from the Brit. He returned his attention to Antonio.

"He was in my high school during my last year. And, mon ami, I can tell you right now that he had one _huge_ stick stuck up his ass. Didn't you rosbif?"

"Better than what you had stuck up there half the time." Arthur hissed back. Francis ignored him and continued "their tale".

"We never actually got to know each other, what with me being a couple years above him, but everyone knew who _I_ was and who_ he_ was. Afterall, who didn_'t _know _me_, the _fabulous_ Francis Bonnefoy? And everyone knew Capt'n Brows as Capt'n Brows or that snobby Brit."

"No one ever referred to you as _fabulous_, frog-face. Most knew you as that bloody faggot that couldn't keep his hands to himself."

"Aw~ Now, now rosbif, don't go around making up false tales~ (Besides, I thought you refused to use American slang?)"

"I'm not lying!" Arthur snapped back. "I may have not talked much during my high school years, but at least I _knew_ what everyone thought of everyone!"

"Ah, but I'm not ga-"

"But everyone thought you were, so there." Arthur then proceeded to stick his tounge out, rather childishly.

"It is so nice to see that my favourite _rosbif_ hasn't grown up." Francis commented, patronizingly.

"I bloody well have!" Arthur shrieked in indignity. Francis glared down at him, an annoyed frown on his face. He then leaned down next to the Brit's ear and whispered "You keep telling yourself that, cher."

Arthur let out a low growl, but then decided to simply ignore Francis. _See if I care_. Arthur thought to himself. The Frenchman turned to Antonio again and finished his tale.

"I and _Arthur_ got to know each other simply by the back and forth tossing of insults. I eventually found his name out and we had a brief rivalry, until I graduated from high school and that was that."

"Si? Ah, so he was like your friend, right?" Antonio asked.

"We are not friends!" Both Francis and Arthur snapped at the same time.

"Guys, guys, will you please shut up and sit down?" Gary asked, walking up to the four. "We want to start now." He added calmly. The four looked at each other, Arthur sending Francis and Gilbert a glare, before they all went off and settled down in a chair. Arthur sighed and slumped into his, deciding that that evening was going to be a very, _very_ long one.

How hadn't he realised that Allure, also known as Francis Bonnefoy, had been "The Frog" to him, during his last high school years?

How?

* * *

**My writer instincts are screaming at me to not make Iggy have a shared past with any super heroes (or villains), but the fanfiction instincts are demanding it. O_o I'm in a lot of mental pain right now, so give me feedback about how you feel about the shared past.**

**And sorry for the update pause. I'm writing an epic and awesome panto script and spend a lot of time writing it. When I'm not writing it, I have a headache and don't want to write any more, so... yeah. TT^TT Bare with me peeps, bare with. :(  
**

**And sorry for cliches. Expect them. They're unavoidable in the super hero genre. Or at least, if they ARE avoidable... Then you are one amazing writer.  
**

**Review?  
**


	7. Capt'n Brows

"I can't believe we almost got kicked out because of you and Capt'n Brows-"

"_I HAVE A NAME GIT!_"

"-over there. Do you know how unawesome it would have been to get kicked out of a double-a meeting? Ugh... And Luddie wouldn't have let me live it down." Gilbert demanded, somewhat impatient with Francis. The Frenchman shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Désolé, mon ami, but it was him who started."

"I started nothing _frog_. Besides, you should be glad I talked them out of kicking us out. Or at least, not kicking you three out anyway..." Arthur commented angrily. After all, Arthur had made up a long tale about him being a well-known writer, who tested out different places to see how helpful they were and had added "This place is amazing. I will post it on my blog!", despite the fact that Arthur hadn't a clue what exactly a blog was. Antonio patted Arthur on the back.

"Amigo, calm down. There's nothing to get upset about, si? You saved us three in there, despite the fact that you were part of the problem, so there's no need to get upset about it, right?" Arthur didn't even bother to glance at Antonio, as he scowled at the streets.

"... Who said anything about being upset?" Arthur sulked, soon zoning out on Anotnio. The Spaniard sighed, as if he was trying to deal with a troublesome toddler, who didn't want to eat his greens, before turning his attention to his friends. He smiled lightly, the angry Briton reminding him a bit of Lovino. Now that Italian was one sweet guy... To an extent...

"Ugh... I could really use a beer right now..." Gilbert complained, massaging his temples, interrupting Antonio's train of thought. "This is unawesome. Who's grand idea was it to put us on cold turkey anyway?"

Francis sighed and held up his hands, beginning to count. "Well, cher, there's Ludwig, Feliciano, Tino, Alfred, ... er... What's his name..."

"Birdie."

"Birdie?... No wait, he's callled..."

"Super-Pancake-Mapleman."

"_Super-Pancake-__Mapleman_? Non, non... He's called... Merde, I should know this! I used to live with the kid..." Francis muttered, trying to remember as best he could, but only pulling out blanks.

"Just go with Birdie."

"Or Super-Pancake-Mapleman!"

"Ah, I remember! Matthew! So, we have four people... Who else? Antonio?"

"Mmh... There's also Kiku, but that's it. And Kiku only said he would _prefer_ it, if we didn't drink and party so often."

"Pretty unawesome that the five ganged up on us." Gilbert complained. "Talking of who made us go... Hey, Capt'n Brows-"

"_Arthur._" Arthur growled, glaring at him. Gilbert remained unaffacted, probably due to the fact that one of his super powers was eye-related.

"OK, _'__Arthur'_. How come you're going to double-a. Family, friends, or..."

"Friends." Arthur stated plainly, turning his attention back to the ground. He tried indicating that the conversation was now over, but some how, it seemed that everyone was incapable of reading body language. Gilbert continued talking.

"Can you maybe give us some names? We'll probably know them, seeing as Feliciano _did_ say that you were the most antisocial being alive and had no friends-"

"Amigo, he never said it like that..." Antonio interjected, sort of defending Arthur and sort of stating the truth.

"Ah, but mon petit lapin _is_ the most antisocial being alive, am I not right Arthur?" Arthur looked up and glared at Francis.

"I wasn't _that_ bad! And since when did _I_ become _your_ little _bunny_?" Arthur demanded. Honestly, he'd barely spent a day with these people (Francis and Alfred), and they'd honestly already given him _nicknames_?

"Why do you describe Arthur as antisocial anyway? I mean, Lovi didn't have friends at school, but he..." Antonio asked, still not really having the whole story between Francis and Arthur.

"Oh, didn't they elaborate?" Gilbert asked, while Arthur and Francis started bickering. Again. "Arthur resisted any form of social activity during the year Francis was around. Now if that isn't antisocialism, then I don't know what it is-" Arthur gave Gilbert a sharp jab in the stomach, having overheard what he'd said.

"Antisocialism's not a word! And it was only _one_ year! Who said that I didn't change in the next two?"

"Did you?"

Arthur blanched ever so slightly and then mumbled "... Well... No..." Gilbert snickered, making Arthur wish him a very painful and nasty death. Not that he didn't already want all of them to die anyway, but that was besides the point. Once Gilbert finally stopped laughing so hard, he breathed out "It's sorta awesome how weird you are."

"I'm not weird!" Arthur snapped, before Antonio patted him on the shoulder.

"Amigo, I'm afraid you are. Just a little." Arthur glared at the three, before sighing and massaging his forehead.

"Why did I agree to come with you guys again?"

"Je ne sais pas, mon ami. Maybe a random desire to act socially? C'est aussi une surprise pour moi!" Francis replied, expecting a reaction from the Brit, but receiving none. Arthur stayed silent, having apparently decided to ignore them. Really though, he was deep in thought.

Did he really come off as an anti-social loser? Was that who Arthur Krikland was in everyone's eyes? OK, so he was supposed to come off like that, but... What if... What if he really was who Kirkland appeared to be? What if..._ Kirkland, get a grip, now is not a time for teenage insecurities and angst; You're not even a teenager any more, so snap _out_ of it already_! Arthur thought in his mind, stuffing any of his second thoughts about his life decisions back into the deep, dark corner's of his mind, where they hid until he next got drunk.

Arthur sighed and looked up, seeing a block of recognisable flats in the distance. Despite there being no moon, he could still recognise the buildings with ease.

"Well, I'm going home now." Arthur spoke up, interrupting Francis, who was talking about his work as a curator at the art museum. "Bye." Arthur added hurriedly, trying to get away from the three as fast as possible. He did so successfully, not having even heard the bad touch trio reply to his quick farewell.

He hurriedly walked back to his flat, opening the door and closing it behind himself, before sighing. That evening had been far too trying for his liking. He was just glad that he wouldn't have to do a repeat of it ever again. Arthur walked into his living room and sat down on the sofa, relaxing in it. It was quite clear that he would _not_ be going to another double-a meeting after this.

True, essentially, it hadn't been that bad; he hadn't had to tell them anything and they were quite friendly and welcoming, but it just wasn't Arthur's thing. It had been too awkward for him to want to relive. Arthur turned the TV on, while pulling out some unfinished stitchwork. He might as well clear his mind with something mindless... The TV was still on the channel "Super News" and his cushion (the aformentioned stitchwork) was half-way done.

Listening to the TV, while stitching, was a perfect way to help him forget if he knew he couldn't drink. Currenlty, the Super News channel was running a document about America, one of the "most loved heroes in New Pond City".

He listened to it for a while, perking up when he realised they were talking about America's early days. It probably meant that the Magician would be mentioned, seeing as the Magician had given America his "big break". He had been a relatively unknown super for about two or three years, before he finally got his "break", which was to get a draw with the Magician at the age of fifteen, something no one else had seemed to be able to do.

Arthur still found it annoying that he had had to draw a draw with someone _younger_ than him, but then again, it could have been worse, it _could_ have been a loss. He had initially thought that America would eventually beat him, but that had luckily never happened (until the Magicians' sudden disappearance and his pointless return...) You see, it seemed that America was either painfully dim or just very, very slow. Arthur personally voted for the extremely and painfully dim option, but no one ever listened to his opinions anyway, so it didn't matter.

Arthur listened to the TV, hoping to find out what they thought of the Magician during his "glory" days, but apparently, they didn't think too highly of him, despite him having practically ruled the city. Huffing, Arthur finished his stitchwork (a new cushion) and turned the TV off, walking out of his living room to the kitchen to make some tea. He needed that cup very, very badly right now.

After his tea, he'd probably do some work on his comeback, before maybe reading a book and then going to bed. Arthur sighed, noting in his mind that that day, the day he went to the double-a meeting and met Gilbert, Francis and Antonio, was deffinitely a dark and black day.

* * *

"Feliciano, Lovino, I got the job!" Arthur said happily, running into the restaurant, smashing the door open. Still overjoyed, Arthur hugged the two Italians, before sitting down next to them at their table. The two Italian brothers were having breakfast, though, some of it was now on Arthur's shirt, who had leaned over the table to hug them.

If Lovino and Feliciano had known why Arthur was so happy about getting this job, they would have heavily regretted ever setting up a job interview for him, but of course, they didn't and so Lovino simply complained about his destroyed breakfast and Feliciano replied cheerfully.

"Congratulations Arthur!"

Arthur put his satchel on his lap, picking out his notebook and pen, before talking to the two befuddled Italians rapidly.

"OK, admittedly, I haven't quite got the job yet, _but_ it's _practically_ mine! He just wants a sample of my writing skills; he says I'd make a great investigative journalist, did you expect that? I honestly didn't, since I thought most people thought I was a hopeless idiot, but obviously he must have looked right through my innocence act, because _man_, investigative journalist? Of course, I still need to prove to him I'm a good writer, _which_ I am, so I shouldn't need to worry about that, but I sort of am, because all writers underestimate their writing skills and are often worried that they're not good enough when they _are_! Investigative Journalist! Wow! My mother would be proud of me, if she were still around that is, but I don't know what to write about, I mean I do, but I some how have writer's block and _man_, I'm _so happy_."

Finally, the Brit reached the end of his rant, before realising that his clothes were dirty. He frowned and picked up a tissue, trying to clean it off, with very little success.

"Ve~ I'm glad you're happy Arthur." Feliciano said after watching Arthur try to clean his shirt multiple times and fail miserably. "You know, you could use our washing machine for that shirt, if you want. We're about to do another load!" Feliciano suggested helpfully.

Arthur took a deep breath and looked down at his notebook, before then looking up at Feliciano and Lovino, who was eating the remaints of his breakfast quite peacefully.

"No, it's fine Feliciano. I'll clean the shirt when I get home. I've got a T-shirt underneath this anyway, so it's no big deal." Arthur waved it off, taking his shirt off, to reveal that he indeed, was wearing a T-shirt underneath it. Admittedly a_ very_ tasteless, plain white one, but still a T-shirt.

Feliciano frowned at it and was about to say something, when Lovino interrupted him, having felt even more disgraced by the T-shirt than Feliciano.

"You can't run around like that! Give me the shirt, now, I'll clean it." Arthur looked up at the Italian, now standing up, with his hands reached out. Arthur frowned and was about to probably deny Lovino his shirt, but the older Italian brother glared at him before he could utter a word.

Sighing, Arthur gave him the shirt, so it could be cleaned. Feliciano smiled and continued eating his breakfast, watching his brother leave for the washroom. Arthur opened his notebook and started scribbling inside it, his happiness seeming to have been sucked out of him. Feliciano frowned as he replayed Arthur's ramble in his mind.

"Arthur, where's your mother?" Feliciano suddenly asked, tearing Arthur away from his thoughts.

"Hm?" Arthur asked surprised, having been very deep in his thoughts. Again.

"... You said 'if my mother were still around'. Does that mean she lives somewhere else, or is she... Dead?" Arthur stared blankly at Feliciano, as he tried to figure out how exactly Feliciano knew that his mother was dead. He frowned, slapping himself mentally on the forehead, realising that in his relief of having things go the way he wanted, he had dropped a few things about his personal life.

After a moment, Arthur finally spoke up. "Er..." Admittedly, it wasn't much, but it was something.

"Arthur?"

"... She's dead." Arthur finally, bluntly, said.

"Oh, sorry-"

"It's OK. I didn't really know her anyway. She divorced my dad when I was little. The last time I saw her, before her funeral, was when I was four, so it's no big deal-"

"That's horrible! I always thought myself unlucky for _knowing _my parents and them dying, but... Not having known them at all? That's worse-"

"No, really Feliciano, it's OK."

"But-"

"No, I _really_ mean _it's OK_. Please don't go on about it." Arthur bit out, now sulking. Feliciano sighed deeply, before returning to his meal.

"I have to go to college soon." He said after an awkward pause, quickly finishing his breakfast. The two heard a chime from the door, so both quickly turned around to see who it was. Ludwig entered, with a rucksack hanging from one of his arms, the other rumaging in it.

"Hello Feliciano, Arthur." He greeted without looking up, still distracted by his rucksack.

"Ciao Ludwig!" Feliciano replied, getting up and taking his things. "I'll just take these to the kitchen, then we can go, ve~"

"Ja, ja, just hurry up. I don't want to be late again." Ludwig replied, frowning when he had found (or didn't find) what he was looking for.

"Scheiiii- Feliciano, could you maybe give me some food for lunch? I'll pay for it later, I just haven't got my meal with me, because Gilbert said he'd make it for me, but he didn't and-"

"Ve~ Nessun problema! You don't need to pay Ludwig, you're my friend. Come on, I think we've got some leftover pasta in the fridge..." And so, both left Arthur alone in the restaurant, in a customerless room (because they were still closed).

Arthur looked in his notebook. He could set his plan in motion tonight, then he'd have the report and some necessary information at the same time. Killing two birds with one stone. It sounded good and he'd already thought of all the what-ifs. Arthur looked up, at the kitchen door, then back at his notebook.

Yes, tonight was as good a night as any. Sighing, he closed his notebook and put it back into his satchel, before walking behind the counter to get ready for work. His only worry was that the day would tire him out so much, that he wouldn't want to go out tonight.

* * *

It was almost midnight, when Arthur strolled down the streets, as the Magician, once again in "casual" attire. Earlier, he had sat in a pub and waited for a key character to enter, before exchanging some words and leaving. This _character_ was a super villain from the Dragons' territory and he was going to get that villian onto the Frozen Stars' territory with complete ease. It'd be easy peasy, lemon squeezy (he'd always wanted to say that).

What Arthur had done was convince the villain that someone from the Frozen Stars' territory was delivering something to someone else on the Dragons' territory, instead of their own, which was illegal in villain terms. Arthur had changed his clothes ever so slightly to subtily suggest he was part of the Frozen Stars' and yet also part of the Dragons'. That way, he should avoid getting attacked when the two sides finally spotted and attacked each other.

He also didn't need to worry about being recognised. His hat was usually tipped at such an angle, that it covered his unfortunately recognisable eyes (if he was wearing a mask to cover the eyebrows which stood out more than his eyes). The eyes were the only things that could betray who he was, because of their "unique" shade of green. There was also his accent, but he could hide that a little, as long as he didn't speak too much.

Arthur stopped in front of the jewellers shop, with his suspicious briefcase at hand, waiting patiently for one of the Dragons to turn up. He was expecting quite a few, so it'd be a race to get to the Frozen Stars' territory before they caught up with him, but never mind. He looked around calmly, searching for anything that might tell him if someone was approaching. He also strained his ears, in case he heard something he wouldn't see coming.

Then he heard and saw it. A motor and headlights in the distance. The Dragons. The Magician quickly started, running, hopping onto a motorbike he had "liberated" from someone earlier that evening. He looked behind himself and discovered that it really _was_ the Dragons. He thought using a car was a bit odd for a super villain, but then again, the boss used to be part of the Mafia, so did it really surprise him?

Arthur leaned forwards, as he sped in the loose direction of the Frozen Stars' HQ (The Whisperer had told him its location).

He suddenly heard the bike give a strange "twanging" sound.

He looked in the mirror and saw that the Dragons had some _fun_ guns. Bullets? Really? Obviously, the Great Dragon had no idea how the super villain world worked, or at least, how it used to.

It's too bad his casual attire wasn't bullet-proof like his other suits. He'd have to be careful. Arthur turned several sharp corners and looked in the mirror again tensing and sighing in relief at the same time. They were still on his tail, but they were catching up. And with them thinking he was a Frozen Star, it was a little dangerous for him to get caught. He turned a few more corners, more sharply and faster this time and slowed the motorbike down slightly. It didn't take long until he heard the sound of motors, but that was OK, because he was taking a short cut.

Before the motorbike could even come to a halt, Arthur jumped off the bike, letting it drive away, until it lost control without its driver. Arthur quickly clambered up a fire escape ladder, running up it as fast as possible. He didn't look behind himself to check whether or not he was being followed, the noise was enough to tell him what was probably going on. By the sounds of it, the Dragons were having a lot of fun trying to catch him.

Once he reached the fifth story, Arthur stopped running, but not in order to catch his breath (hey, just because he stopped being a super villain, didn't mean he became unfit!). He tore some of his sleeve off and stuck it to the stairs, hopefully tricking the Dragons into thinking he was running upwards onto the roof. He then opened the window by the fire escape and was about to climb in, when he heard someone speak to him.

"Hey there shortie. If you don't want me to burn you up, you'd better stop moving right now." Arthur relaxed his shoulders, and listened. From the ground, a few villains were running upwards, so obviously, they were expecting him to escape. Arthur turned his head slightly, and looked at the super from the corner of his eye. Arthur frowned, recognising the villain as an "old friend", Sky Scar, floating in the air, with a flamethrower pointed at him. What a nice sort-of reunion.

The Magician smirked and gave him the finger, before pulling out his stun gun and shooting Sky Scar in the chest, before the super even had the chance to realise that his enemy was weaponed. Arthur climbed into the window and closed it behind himself, as Sky Scar dropped from the sky to the ground like a rock (it's OK, he's a super, he'll survive). Looking around the room, Arthur noticed that, what used to be a storage room, was now a baby's room. Oops. He should have checked out his "short cuts" before using them. After all, he hadn't used half of them in three years, so he should have expected something like this.

The Magician walked up to the cot in the corner, knowing he didn't have much time before he had to continue. If he stayed in the room too long, a villain may look in the window per chance and see him. But Arthur couldn't help but smile at the baby sleeping in the cot. According to his sight, the baby was called Melody Taylor and was only a couple weeks old. He looked up out the window and bit his lip. With so many super villains running upwards, Arthur couldn't _honestly_ say, that he felt comfortable leaving a baby right by the window, for them to see.

Arthur carefully reached into the cot, picking Melody up, while turning the baby monitor off. The door to the child's room was open, so Arthur didn't have to worry about opening it. With the briefcase uncomfortably hanging from his wrist, Arthur snuck down the corridor to the parents' room, finding that their door was likewise open. He placed the baby in its mother's embrace, before sneaking out again, leaving the door ajar. He then crept into the kitchen and opened the window, smiling when he saw that that odd pole leading to another building was still there.

He climbed onto it, shutting the window behind himself and started walking across, until he heard a loud "There he is!" Arthur jumped and looked upwards, to see a bunch of super villains there, with very annoyed expressions on their faces. Luckily, they weren't close enough for him to be recognisable to them, but he _did_ lose his balance and now found himself hanging from the pole, instead of standing on it, with the briefcase held between his feet and ankles now.

"Fuuuck..." Arthur whined. He'd always been terrible at monkey bars, and now he had to do this at what, ten metres off the ground? Lovely. His arms were already feeling strained. Arthur sighed, and started swinging back and forth. To die at this point would be a bit annoying, so he'd have to make sure he _didn't_. Once he had enough swing, he swung further forwards and let the briefcase go. It flew over to the building opposite of him and landed on the fire escape there. Arthur sighed in relief, then took a deep breath and swung his legs even higher, until they reached the pole. At least he wasn't hanging from just his arms now.

The super villains on the roof were a bit confused as to what to do, seeing as they had no clue how Arthur had gotten onto that weird metal bar thingy, that connected two buildings to each other. All they could do was watch and hope the Magician fell (they had luckily ran out of ammo). Arthur clambered onto the pole, then, on shaky feet, stood up and ran to the fire escape of the other building, picking up the suitcase and then saluting the villains he'd left behind. They let out a roar of fury at him, swearing at his cockiness and the fact that he'd seemed to escape them.

He couldn't help but laugh as he ran down the fire escape, hearing them curse him in the distance. Of course, the laughter only lasted until he reached the bottom. Some more Dragons were waiting for him.

"I see they couldn't handle you." A super villain... Called Screecher (really?) commented, his arms folded smugly. Several villains had their hands pointed at him. One shot fire, one shot sand and the last one had two _big_ guns in his hands. Arthur backed up and held his hands up.

"H-hey guys, I'm sure we can talk about this." Arthur said in his best American accent. He seemed to be fooling them, but he didn't quite trust himself. He looked Screecher in the eye, who paled when he recognised the face. Arthur frowned, realising he'd given himself away like that. Stupid, stupid, stupid... Stupid amateur mistake.

Not having time to mess with them, Arthur pulled out his stun gun again and shot all four, dodging the fire and sand that came his way. He then jumped over their limp bodies, running out to the main street, discovering an empty dragon car. Perfect. Arthur threw the suitcase into the passenger seats, then sat in the driver's seat and sped off, grinning like a maniac. How, oh _how_ had he lived without this? This certainly was a _lot_ better than his usual evenings, which involved cleaning the house or stitching.

He looked in the rear mirror and saw that he was already being followed again. Arthur dug his hand into his coat pocket and pulled out a self-made map of the city and the two territories.

He turned another corner and saw that he wasn't that far from home-free safety. He stuffed the paper back into his pocket, before turning another corner, speeding down the street and on to the motorway. This should start attracting the attention of the Frozen Stars _pretty_ soon. Arthur looked in the rear mirror, but frowned this time. Darn it, he could see Veloce in the distance, which meant that the Italian had come to deal with this problem.

He couldn't let any super heroes see him until his comeback. He'd have to think of something quickly, to avoid dealing with Veloce. The Magician pulled off the motorway onto the main streets again and drove into the tunnels. Again, Arthur pulled out his map, while biting his lip. It was getting just a _bit_ too dangerous for his liking now. He wasn't too far from the Frozen Stars' HQ, so it shouldn't be too bad. Arthur heard glass shatter behind him and looked in his rear mirror.

Well, wasn't this bloody wonderful? The Dragons had caught up with him and shot down the window in the back! Sighing, Arthur sped up even more, while swerving, in order to avoid bullets. He shot out of the tunnel and almost screamed when he saw Veloce running alongside him. At this point, Arthur was extremely relieved that the windows were tinted black, so no one could look through them.

"You bloody supers are like bloody leeches." Arthur muttered to himself, turning left and forcing Veloce to stop running so near to the car. Stupid Italian with stupid super speed. Again, the Magician looked in the rear mirror, just in time to see Germanium stop one of the cars chasing him. Ah, so the Axis was after them. Arthur laughed at the team name, still finding it bizarre that, despite the Axis Powers having been the "bad guys" in World war 2, the team was named after them. Really? Axis? He'd never get his mind around that. For all he knew, that would mean that maybe, at some point, there would be bad guys called the Allies!

Arthur snickered and turned a right corner, realising that a new vehicle was catching up with him. So, there was the third member of the (snicker) Axis. Shiro Ninja, driving a car? Did this evening bid no end to surprises? Arthur came to a complete halt with his car and got out of it, disappearing in to an allyway. He'd been in this part of town before and knew a very good hiding place. He ran up yet another fire escape and opened another window, climbing into the room and closing it behind himself. He sat down on the floor, as he finally found himself just a tad tired.

Arthur looked around himself and wanted to bash his head against the wall. Yet again he had made the mistake of using one of his "short cuts" without checking to see if anything had changed. Two children, one six, the other four, were sitting up in their beds, looking at him with big eyes. This apartment used to be empty, but obviously, someone had rented it and was now living in it and _why_ did he keep bumping into kids that night?

Finally, after a pause, in which Arthur simply looked at the two kids, who stared back at him, one of the children spoke up.

"Are you a super hero?" The older child, a girl, asked. Arthur was about to shake his head, when his mind quickly snapped back "If you say no, they'll figure you're a super villain and start screaming for their parents, idiot!"

"Y-yeah, I'm uh..." _Should I risk simply stating my name?_ _Better not... what do I say then, what name do I give, what NAME?_ "I'm Capt'n Brows." _Seriously Kirkland, what the bloody hell was that?_

"I've never heard of you before." The boy, the younger sibling, commented.

"That's because you've only been around for four years." Arthur replied, slowly getting up, to his feet. He looked out the window and saw Shiro Ninja in the allyway, looking around confused.

"I'm not _only_ four years old! I'm AM four years old! I'm a big boy!" The boy complained.

"Hm, wha?" Arthur asked, still distracted by Shiro, wondering if the Japanese man would look up at him by chance. That would be weird.

"How come _I_ haven't heard of you before then? I'm six and I'm bigger than him, so I should know, shouldn't I?" The girl inquired. Arthur turned around and looked at them. Esther and Timothy Hilton. Cute names. Arthur walked over to the two and sat between their beds.

"I'm a relatively new hero, OK? I'm still getting around and I'm _awfully_ sorry for entering your room like this. I'll go in a minute, OK?" The two children nodded and started lying back down into their beds.

"What super power do you have?" Timothy asked, looking at Arthur with tired eyes. Arthur sighed, deciding that he may as well lie about his super powers. After all, a super hero without super powers? Wrong or what?

"I have telepathy." Arthur said. "And I can prove it. You're name is Timothy Hilton and your sister's name is Esther Hilton. You're four, she's six."

"Wow..." Both said, gaping. The boy soon recovered and continued asking questions. "So why are you called Capt'n Brows then?"

"Er... I have amazing eyebrow powers as well, but they're so amazing that I can't demonstrate them to you, OK?" Arthur carefully lied. Again, the two children accepted this.

"Have you got a mental disease?" Timothy suddenly asked.

"What? No! Why'd you ask that?" Arthur replied, a bit shocked.

"It's just that you speak funny. And uncle speaks funny too and mommy says that's 'cause he's got a mental disease. I don't know what they mean, but they're sure big words!" Timothy explained, smiling. Arthur gave him a pained smile.

"Well, no, I haven't got a disease. I'm-"

"He's English, idiot. He has an accent, is' all." Esther chimed in, frowning at her brother disapprovingly. Before the boy could retort and the two could start fighting, Arthur spoke up.

"Hey, now. Esther, don't treat your brother like that. It's not nice. You want to grow up to be a lady, don't you?"

"As if! Ladies are all don't do this, don't do that, don't get dirty, wear dresses and they're snooty and rude and snobby and-" Arthur laughed lightly and patted the girl on her head.

"No, no, you've got it wrong. A lady is merely a woman of decency. She can wear trousers and be as boyish as she wishes, but she knows how to treat others and looks after them. Your mummy's a lady, for example. Don't you want to be like her?"

Esther silenced, before mumbling an embarassed "Yes." Arthur nodded at her approvingly, before saying "Good. Go on then, apologise to your brother."

"... Sorry Timothy." The girl muttered, pouting and looking away. Arthur patted her on the head again, then turned his attention to Timothy, who was frowning.

"Can I be a lady too?" Timothy asked after a pause. "Cause they sound great." Arthur bit down his laugh and replied calmly "I'm afraid not, but you _can_ be a gentleman. They're like ladies, but different, because they can only be guys, see?"

"So I can be a gentleman?"

"Sure, if you want to. Just be chivalrous and polite."

"What does chivalrous mean?"

"Ask your mother in the morning." Arthur replied, smiling at him. He then felt a tugging at his sleeve, so he turned to look at Esther.

"Yes?"

"Why did you become a super hero?" She asked innocently. _Oh boy_. Arthur thought, paling ever so slightly. He quickly flicked through his mind for a reason, before stumbling over a painful memory. _They're always too late..._

"I became a super hero, because I wanted to save those who need help and be there on time, instead of waiting until it's too late." Arthur replied. He got up and looked out the window. Shiro was gone. Well, that was a relief. He opened the window and started climbing out. He looked at the two tired forms of children and smiled gently at them.

"I'm going to have to go now kids. Bye-"

"C-Capt'n Brows?" Timothy spoke up. Arthur flinched, finding the title a bit irritating, but smiled at the two anyway.

"Yes?" He bit out, hiding his irritation as best he could.

"Could you come and tuck us in? Mommy and Daddy forgot to do that tonight. They were too busy shouting." Arthur's expression immediately softened at that, recalling his earliest memories, all of which being related to his parents' fighting. _Poor babes..._ Arthur thought to himself, walking over to them. He tucked them in and kissed each on the forehead, like a parent would, before whispering softly "Good night, sleep tight and don't let the bedbugs bite." The children giggled at that and closed their eyes, slowly drifting to sleep.

"... Night Capt'n Brows..." Timothy and Esther mumbled, as Arthur carefully climbed out the window, closing it behind himself and leaving.

"Night kids."

* * *

**I apologise for my appalling French. It's my third language and as you can see, I'm not that good at it (or comfortable with it). O_o**

**I had to read up on where people keep their washing machines you know. We keep ours in the cellar, but I doubt that's the case with other places, so yeah... (I'm right, Italians keep theirs in the bathroom and the Brits keep theirs in the kitchen) ^^;  
**

**And I've finally made the "book cover" for the Magician! My only complaint is that, unfortunately, you can't recognise the fact that the cat only has three legs. :/ Never mind, I guess...**

**Haha, whoops. Exceeded my word limit. ^^; Well, I'm sure YOU guys aren't complaining, are you?  
**

**And guys, are you KIDDING me? 30 reviews? Already? And some of those reviews are really gobsmacking. Wow. I love you. :3  
**


	8. I really wish I had stayed in bed

Arthur climbed back down the fire escape and ran to the car, silently cursing himself for forgetting the briefcase. He sighed in relief when he reached the car to find that the suitcase was still there. He then went back to the fire escape and ran up to the roof, so he could have a better view of the fight that was either happening or about to happen.

Silently, he noted to himself that he mustn't make a mistake like forgetting his props ever again. After all, next time, he may not get away with it so lightly.

Once he was on the roof, he sat himself down at the edge, opening the suitcase. He pulled out a camera and a microphone, along with his trusty notepad and pen. He stretched and then turned the camera on, looking around.

"Aha, there you are." Arthur muttered, his camera focusing on the Dragons and the Frozen Stars, who were now clashing with each other. Arthur frowned confused, but soon let out an understanding sigh, when he spotted the "Snow Princess" dealing with the Axis a few streets away. Understandable, since heroes mustn't ever find out how the villain world worked. It _really_ wouldn't do if their opponents knew how to play their game, after all.

So while the heroes were battling it out with Snow Princess, the villains were having their own showdown.

The Magician focused on the villain clash, knowing that the knowledge of how the Frozen Stars and the Dragons interacted with each other was far more important than watching some battle between three (well, technically two) super heroes and a super villainess.

Despite the Magician being far away from the coming onslaught, he still knew what was going on. The Sight usually let him "read their lips", so to say. Well, it didn't enable him to read their lips, but it was the easiest way of explaining it. Arthur took a picture of Cold Bite, thinking it'd be a smart idea to have the picture of any potential rivals or enemies in his notes.

"_What are you doing here? This is Frozen Star Territory." _Cold Bite demanded, frowning at the Dragons.

"_We came here, because one of the Frozen Stars crossed over to our territory!_"

"... _Is that so? Well, I don't know anything about this and right now, you and your people are trespassing_."

"_What, are you saying we're lying?_"

"_Are you saying _we_ are?"_

_"Well I am. There's a reason why I'm not a Frozen star, you know."_ A dragon member challenged. Cold Bite's eyes narrowed dangerously at the remark, his annoyance becoming a bit more than just that. He pressed his lips together firmly, while folding his arms and glaring at the dragon member.

"_The Frozen Stars do not lie. Now, if you are wise, you will back off now, da?_" Blue Hands spoke up, before Cold Bite could reply. The Magician frowned. Ah, so this was Cold Bite's apprentice, huh? Blue Hands. Not a bad name. The Brit shivered, deciding that Blue Hands was just a tad scary. His real name was Ivan Braginski, but he also got called "Vanya" by his loved ones; he had two sisters, and he really liked sunflowers. How sweet. Not.

Blue Hands was practically towering over the Dragon Members, a childish smile on his face, as he silently challenged them to make him angry. And one of the Dragons, a very young and obviously very stupid one, accepted.

"_The Dragons are, unlike the Frozen Stars, full of honour, we do not lie! If anyone does, it's you treacherous dogs__!"_ The young Dragon snapped back, grinning at the reactions of Frozen Stars, pleased with himself. The Magician frowned, deciding that that young villain wouldn't have long to live if he continued talking like that. He figured the young villain had three weeks, tops.

"_Those are big words for such a young boy like_ yourself." Cold Bite commented, his glare tenfolding. "_I do not take kindly to being called a treacherous dog._" And with that, Cold Bite activated his powers, his whole body turning to ice, his intense glare becoming even colder and icier than before.

"_Frozen Stars. Attack."_ And then chaos ensued, much to the Magician's pleasure (he'd be happier if he were in the middle of it, but being the cause of the chaos would have to do for now...) Arthur leant back and smiled. Ah yes, the Dragons and Frozen Stars were _very_ hostile towards each other. He could see that now.

Opening his notebook, he made a few notes, watching the two battles between supers, and taking a few photos now and then.

Arthur noticed a cat settle down next to him and stroked it absentmindedly, before tearing out a paper from his notebook, with a message for the Whisperer written on it and putting it underneath the cat's collar.

Once he'd done that, he petted the cat again, then continued observing the fight.

He noted that the Dragons were beginning to retreat, but screaming something along the lines of "This isn't over" and "The Great Dragon will get you!".

Arthur sighed disappointed, having expected a bit more excitement, but looking at the pictures he'd taken, he accepted the fact that it wasn't _boring_ either. He opened his suitcase and placed the camera, notebook and pencil back inside it. He looked at the clock inside his suitcase.

It was some time after two in the morning. It really was high time to go to bed now. Sighing, Arthur got up and gently shooed the cat away, before turning on his heels and making the long way back to his flat.

* * *

"... Usefulness proven. Done." Arthur wrote the next day, some time before work, smiling at his text. Step one of "True Eyes" was now completed. Step one, of course, being that he gets a good job as a journalist and then, after a couple of weeks of (hopeful) popularity, have the _anonymous_ journalist send in articles, with the "truth" written in them.

He sighed deeply and looked at the clock on his computer. He really should start getting ready for work soon. With a tired yawn, Arthur quickly edited his article and then sent it off, before turning off the computer and getting up to leave. He walked over to his wardrobe and picked something out for the day, choosing his signature green vest, white shirt and black slacks.

After a big cup of coffee, washed down by an even larger cup of tea, Arthur picked up his satchel and the keys to his apartment, heading out. He locked the door behind himself and walked down the stairs, his mind, having now written the article, dragging itself back to what it really wanted.

Sleep. He had barely had five hours sleep and his body was begging for more. The coffee was supposed to help wake him up, but all it did was make him awake enough to realise exactly _how_ tired he was.

Feeling grumpier than usual, Arthur hurried to get to work on time.

"What got you out of the wrong side of bed this morning?" Lovino asked with near minimal interest. Arthur didn't respond, closing his eyes tiredly and letting out a grunt, usually only given from a sleep-deprived teenager. The Brit was simply too tired to correct Lovino.

"... Didn't get much sleep last night..." Arthur finally slurred, stumbling over his feet, walking up to the Italian. "I swear, sometimes I just don't want to get out of bed. Ever." His coworker gave Arthur a pitiful look, but said nothing, deciding not to bother the otherwise annoying Brit. Of course, the beautiful silence didn't last long; it soon got interrupted by Arthur's boss.

"Everyone's like that Arthur. Now stop moaning and get dressed. You're starting to sound like Lovino." Mr Vargas said cheerfully, entering the room and giving Arthur a big, to the Englishman also painful, smile. The Brit (uncomfortably) looked up and nodded, before letting out a deep sigh.

"This... This is going to be a long day, isn't it?" He asked tiredly.

"Only if you make it so!" Mr. Vargas replied, happily. Arthur groaned and let his head thud back onto the table.

"I really wish I had stayed in bed."

* * *

_..._

_... "And why would I do that?" The man replied, his voice a low, rhaspy whisper, uncertainty laced around his words. The mysterious woman sighed in reply and looked at the starry night skies, shaking her head, almost disappointed and sadly._

_"Because in the future..."  
_

This is how far Arthur got into his book, until Francis had finally annoyed him to the point of giving in. Sighing, he put his book down and looked up at the Frenchman.

"What are you doing?" Francis asked again, smiling at him playfully.

"I. Am reading. A book." Arthur explained slowly, as if the man opposite of him were hard of hearing. Francis smiled at the response.

"Mon ami, that doesn't tell me what the book is about."

"It's a book. I'm reading it. What else is there to know?"

"Well, I didn't know what else to open the conversation with. There's no point in asking you how you're doing, you're always grumpy and I can't get you to listen to me for more than five seconds- Ow!"

"Shut up. You could have just left me alone like that lot over there." Arthur vaguely waved in the direction of Feliciano and his friends, with whom Francis had originally arrived.

"Mon cher, we haven't had a proper chance to catch up though. It's not that I don't like Antonio or Gilbert, they're my best friends, but with them around, I couldn't really talk to you properly."

"... Oh really?"

"Oui."

"Francis, why do you want to talk to me? There's nothing to _catch up__ on._ O_bviously_ I became a waiter and you became... Something... And we went our seperate ways, end of story. The fact that you're even talking to me goes against rivalry rules."

"What rivalry rules?" Arthur looked up and gave Francis a blank stare. _Riiight, as if I would really tell you the story behind the rivalry rules... Ugh, I forgot that that was only between me and them._

"TTThhhhheeeee rules I just made up. Shut up." Arthur lied. Francis snickered, having not picked up on Arthur's little lie.

"No seriously Arthur, I know I act like a... _Pervert_, as you so kindly claim, but I'm curious to know how you've been in the... What was it, last five years? And I also want to know why you didn't reply to any of my calls or texts."

"I lost your phone number. I can't help it if the way you talk and write sounds like a stalker and, or a creep."

"I always stated who I was in my calls."

"Yeah, well, your accent was so thick, I couldn't understand half of what you were saying."

"And my emails?"

"Er..."

"You deleted your email account."

"Well, th-that was because it was too... Too..."

"Too what?"

"It was a stupid, annoying teenager email address that no _mature _adult should use after turning eighteen (or twenty-one). I didn't want it any more."

"You were sixteen when you deleted it."

"I wanted to come off as mature!"

"... Why didn't you send an email to me with your new email address?"

"Er... I lost your email address too."

"Rosbif, why did you want to lose contact with me? You defended me when jocks teased me for being in touch with my feminine side, you tolerated me when I went on about shampoos and perfumes, you even attended my graduation ceremony and helped me get into Rimona's pants! Arthur, you hate to admit it, _I_ hate to admit it, but we were more than rivals, we were _friendly _rivals, if not _friends_."

"Look, _you've _got it all wrong then! We were only ever rivals! I only defended you from those jocks because I hate bullies and I never actually _listened_ to you, I was always reading a _book_ while _you were talking _and the graduation and Rimona... Er... I-I had had a lot to drink! I say and do stuff I don't mean to when I'm drunk!" Arthur replied.

"You were sixteen."

"It's a legal drinking age in Switzerland!"

"Arthur, I just want to know why you wanted to lose contact with me. Oh, and know if you're free on Friday to come with me, Antonio and Gilbert to a sing-along evening at the bar. The more guys we invite, the more likely we won't get drunk and, or thrown out."

"... Firstly, you do realise that there was a reason why I went to the double-a meeting, right? And secondly, you're a people person, why don't you try using your so called _social skills_ and figure it out yourself?"

"About the drinking, I know you have a problem-"

"Not a problem, just a habit."

"But Feliciano, whenever he mentions you... Sorry, you do come off as an unsocial, arrogant idiot. A little social activity won't kill you."

"That's what you think." Arthur commented dryly.

"And also, challenge accepted."

"Wait, what?"

"I will figure out why you wanted to lose contact with me, effective immediately." Francis announced, grinning at Arthur, almost triumphantly. "And you can't force me to leave you alone, because _you're_ the one that innitiated the challenge!"

"B-but, wait, what?"

"Oui?"

"B-but that would mean-"

"Spending more time with you? Oui. I admit, it's a bit of a lose-lose situation, but never mind. A little curiosity hasn't killed me yet."

"What do you mean it's a lose-lose situation? I'm a bloody brilliant person to hang out with!"

"Your idea of a good time is reading a book on garden work and stitching, while watching a rerun of some TV pop quiz show no one watches any more."

"Hey! There _are_ still people who watch the weakest link and garden work and stitching are _very intresting_."

"... Those were just random things I said... You really do all those things? This is a bigger lose-lose situation than I thought."

"H-hey!"

"Arthur, break's over!" Lovino called over, from the booth he was sitting at, surrounded by supers in disguise. Arthur huffed and looked at Francis, the smallest trace of hope on his face. Francis _really_ wanted to know why Arthur had left him in the dust like that... Apparently, the sudden rejection from Arthur five years ago had affected Francis badly, though he didn't let it show. It was only because of the Sight that Arthur knew.

He sighed and got up, turning to leave the booth, but before leaving completely, he turned around, having at least made his mind up about _something_.

"Fine, I'm coming to that sing-along." He muttered, before quickly storming off to the kitchens.

* * *

Arthur sighed deeply, as he flicked through a newspaper of his, having decided to do some "Advertisement" for the Magician, which would hopefully get the public ready for his comeback. There was a new article in his papers about the Snow Princess, who got beaten up by the Axis last night.

He was sitting in a rather crowded train, with no particular destination in mind, just going around in circles. He cleared his throat quickly, going through what he would say, before taking out his phone and sending a message to himself.

No one noticed Arthur on the train, apart from maybe a child, who kept staring at his eyebrows, as if the kid had never seen eyebrows before. Once he sent the message, the phone gave out a ring. Arthur quickly pretended to pick up his phone.

"Hello?" He asked to absolutely no one. He skillfully held the newspaper open in one hand, while keeping the phone pressed next to his ear.

"Oh, hi there mate! Yeah, I've been expecting you to call me for a while!" He said, still not very loud, but loud enough for a few people to listen in, having nothing better to do.

"Yeah, I'll be coming, don't worry..." Arthur said, before delibrately looking at the paper, then letting out a groan.

"Hm?" He asked over the phone, as if the imaginary friend had asked him why he had groaned. "Oh, it's just... Super villains, is all." He replied, now gaining more listeners.

"Well, I just think... They've _really_ started sucking in the last few years, you know? They're using cars and guns, which, by the way, has _no style_, you know what I mean? Super villains are supposed to be as serious as a spoon and full of clichés! But now... They have no sense of presentation, they have no style... They're just... They're your common bad guy with super powers and that's pretty much _it_. How lame is that? ... I know I'll probably regret saying this, but I wish the _old_ Magician were back. Not the one galloping around, getting beaten up by regular dudes and stealing liquor, but I mean the one from a couple years ago, before he disappeared! I mean, sure, he was the scariest dude ever, not even America could defeat him, but at least he had class and style, you know? Mhm? Well, I'll see you there then, bye!"

Arthur then proceeded to pretend hanging up and let out a deep sigh. To anyone other than Arthur, it sounded like a tired sigh, but really, it was a cleverly disguised sigh of relief. He put his phone away and pretended to continue reading the newspaper, occasionally letting his eyes wander around the train.

He bit back his smile when he saw his fake telephone conversation had been a success. Indeed, all people within hearing range were finding themselves agreeing with what Arthur had said. There was no glamour in super villains any more, they were all plain old scumbags with nothing special about them, other than their powers. They seemed fairly depressed by the sudden realisation that the supers' world had lost its strange shine and become a dull, upgraded version of police vs. criminals.

When the next station came, Arthur got off, feeling that he had done a job well-done and that his sudden return would be well received by the public at least. He also knew that he would have to some how break the super villain world again and reassemble it as the world he was used to. The one with gangs was too much like a drama film for teenagers.

Pathetic, dull and plain out stupid.

Arthur wondered where he should go next though. Telling a train about the stupid villain world wouldn't be enough to ignite the feeling of dullness in the super world, after all... He would have to seek out another public domain with a lot of quiet people, where he could pull off the fake telephone conversation again.

... Perhaps a bus?

* * *

It was late at night when Arthur finally went to bed. He did a few house chores when he got back, afterwards working on the suit, it now being ready to be tested to an extent (stretchiness, comfort, protection, etc.). He had received a phone call from Edelstein, with the news that he had gotten the job and he were to start on Monday, to which he had been quite thrilled. He had considered having a glass of wine or going to the pub to celebrate, but he knew that once he started drinking, he couldn't stop. So instead, he made himself a cup of tea and watched a rerun of the weakest link.

He also called the Vargas family and told them what had happened and that his last shift should be on Friday. Mr. Vargas agreed, while Feliciano beamed congratulations over the phone. Lovino muttered some form of thanks, though it sounded more like he was cursing at Arthur, than wishing him luck.

After the call, Arthur then went back to his room and reread his notes on super villains and heroes, noting which supers were currently most popular and which ones existed more in the background. He had also been to the art gallery earlier, where the Rose of Britain would be presented and had made mental notes about where the cameras and guards were or were to be placed and also noted that the Rose of Britain was in "neutral" territory (or simply, the art gallery "belonged" to neither the Frozen Stars or the Dragons).

Once he updated his notes on New Pond City and some of its Citizens, he did some practice shooting with his stun gun and then practiced making his signature symbol on a piece of paper with a black spray paint. The Magician's signature symbol was rather important to Arthur, so he really needed to be able to make that sign again.

The "M" was still a bit wobbly, and the circle around the M occasionally looked more like a square than a circle, but he was convinced he would soon be able to make that symbol again without a second glance. That symbol, the M in the circle, the Magician's logo, had actually been a key part to his success as a super villain.

While messing around with the minds of supers was fun (and relatively easy), it wasn't the same as having them fear you. The public was also scared of you to an extent, but it was the kind of fear you felt when you received a bad mark at school and had yet to tell your parents about it, rather than actual, real fear. Since Arthur wasn't really a "real" criminal, in which he had actually done something mindboggingly shocking (super villains were, in his opinion, more like super stars anyway), he needed people to think he _was_.

If they realised that the Magician was "harmless", then they would stop taking him seriously, something that was vital for a super villain's existence. This is how the logo came about. The Magician started spraying his symbol whenever he "struck", be it in shops, museums or even the town council, to announce that he had commited the crime. That way, people always knew he had been there and had done the crime. Then, after the people recognised the M in a circle as his logo, he went out at night with a dummy he had bought a while ago and laid it on the ground in an ally. He drew a chalk outline around it and splattered some fake blood on the ground, sometimes the walls for added effect. He then took out some "Do not cross this line" strips he had "liberated" from the police station and stuck them around the ally, finishing off the scene by spraying his symbol onto the wall.

He did about ten or twelve of these in the city, in different locations at night and would let the public then deal with the rest in the morning. When people saw these "crime scenes" and realised they had heard nothing about them in the news, fear would start growing, and then they'd assume that the Magician had murdered people and the police weren't releasing any information for the good of the public. Wild spread fear and "respect" for the Magician, done without commiting a single, serious crime.

This was why the Magician needed to be able to draw that logo again, since it was tightly connected to his role as a super villain. He was simply relieved that he didn't use it after he disappeared from the scene and came back. You see, when the Magician comes back properly in a couple weeks time, he will pretend to be insulted that the public mistook him, the "marvellous Magician", for that _imposter_, implying that he had stayed absent for the last few years.

And since he hadn't used the logo, it could be used as proof that that "other Magician" was an imposter, and not the real deal. Talking of this fictional imposter, Arthur put his spray paint down and made a note that he'd have to make a fake murder scene a couple days before his comeback. That murder scene would be where the Magician's imposter had died, leaving the Magician with no unresolved problems. Arthur would have to put it in a public place though, somewhere that everyone would see, yet was still more or less out of the way...

He could deal with that later. Arthur let out a tired yawn and started putting everything away, back into his closet, all neatly and orderly, so that he could quickly find them again. While putting things away, Arthur noticed the box labelled "Gadgets and Memoires". He'd have to go through those the next day, to see if there was anything that would be useful for his comeback.

Sighing, the Brit then got changed and went to bed. As he drifted to sleep, he vaguely heard his phone vibrate, having received a new message. If Arthur had read the message, he would have found that if he didn't reply within an hour, he was committed to going to the summer fair that Saturday to celebrate his new job. Of course, he didn't read it and slept peacefully, satisfied with his work for the day.

Well, that was until morning of course.

But morning was a long way away.

* * *

**Sorry for the delayed update. I have difficulties writing this, because I have to reach at least 4000 words and it has to be written only from Arthur's perspective (which is really difficult, because I like switching perspectives).  
**

**Also, from now on, this updates on the last Sunday of the month. While I know this makes the story even _more_ slow-paced than before, it's better than a two month break, like with this chappie, right?  
**

**Also, a note on design, the Magician has a "Logo", but he doesn't wear it on his suit, because that would look plain stupid and he knows it. So it really does only exist to scare people. :P  
**

* * *

**...Almost fourty reviews. I don't even know any more.  
**

**I love you all. :3 No really. I do. :D  
**


	9. My Stomach will go On and On

It was Friday. Not that this made Arthur feel any sort of relief. In fact, let's summarise how Arthur currently felt. His boss had sent him home early, despite it being the last time he'd work at the restaurant and despite having a nap in the afternoon, he still felt rotten. He had been forcefully invited to going to the summer fair and the Whisperer had requested an audience with him that afternoon. Why hadn't Arthur begged the Whisperer to have it on Thursday again? Oh yeah, because on _Thursday_, he had felt like Hell.

And Friday wasn't much better.

All Arthur wanted to do was sneak back into his bed and never come out again, but it seemed that life had other plans.

"… How much sleep did you get in the last few nights?" The Whisperer asked, when he entered his living room with refreshments (usually his butler got him refreshments, but when it came to dealing with supers, he always dealt with it himself).

Arthur woke up from his half-sleep and glared at the Greek man. Heracles simply shook his head and sat down, setting the drinks on the coffee table.

"I made some ice tea." He said, shooing some cats off the sofa. Arthur nodded, though it looked more like he was going to doze off again.

"Maybe I should have made some coffee…" Heracles muttered to himself, as he watched Arthur slowly fall asleep in the beanie bag. He clapped his hands together and Arthur woke up with a start.

"I called you over, because of that… Note you sent me. I thought you should know I find it quite insulting."

"Couldn't you have sent me a note back?" Arthur asked, trying to focus his attention.

"Well, yes, but I wanted to talk to you personally. Besides, my cats said something about you not getting enough sleep. I thought I'd call you over here to lecture you on that too. I know the value of sleep, unlike most people nowadays."

"I think you did this just to annoy me."

"You wouldn't be completely wrong there." Heracles admitted, shrugging. "I don't do much nowadays, and not very much amuses me. I have to call my shots from somewhere." Arthur said nothing, only nodding off again, before waking up.

"… Look, about the note. It's true. If you're going to go snooping around, putting your nose in places it doesn't belong, you might as well come back. If you are going to continue hiding, it'll only because of cowardice."

"You really don't beat around the bush, do you? Not when you're tired, anyway." The Greek man replied, feeling amused instead of insulted, like he had been when he received the written note. "I suppose it's true, but Arthur, right now there are no super villains around that belong to neither the Frozen Stars nor the Dragons. Also, you need to remember that all _neutral_ supers were forced into hiding or joining. If I were to come back now, I wouldn't be neutral for long."

"Mmh. I still think you shouldn't be in hiding, if you're going to go snooping all the time. I'm telling you, one day you'll end up getting caught red-handed and then what are you going to do? They'll know your real identity, instead of the secret one. Oh, talking of identities, which identity do you prefer anyway?"

The Whisperer shrugged, not all too bothered.

"I don't have a favourite. And if they find out about me… I can have them arrested."

"Only if you can prove it. The city's not as corrupted as it used to be. Jeanne Archer has been doing some pretty good cleaning up."

"Ah, so you know more about Jeanne Archer then?"

"Only enough to get around and know that she's bad news." Arthur replied, stifling a yawn.

"Indeed, she is a very interesting character. I quite like her, but unfortunately, she's also part of the reason why super villains started forming groups."

"I know. I figured that out myself."

"What do you plan on doing with Jeanne Archer?"

"Nothing. Currently, she is no threat to me and I don't fight civilians, or people without masks. And besides, as soon as a super villain commits a serious crime, such as murder, the police will come after us properly. I'd be in jail, possibly even dead, within a week."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. I'll just be careful to avoid her and make sure I'm very cautious with my DNA from now on." Arthur replied. He leaned forward and picked up a cat, hoping that if he had an animal on his lap, he would stay awake. Sadly, he realised how wrong he was. The warmth of the animal just made him feel sleepier.

"… One more thing Magician." The Whisperer said, leaning back, while folding his arms.

"Yes?" Arthur asked tiredly, waking up again, and stifling yet another yawn.

"Did you enjoy the other night? The bike and car chase?"

" Hm, wha-? Oh, that... Er… Well, I suppose so."

"The daring escape across the roof?"

"I wouldn't call it daring."

"Watching that battle between villains?"

"Well… Yes, I did enjoy that-"

"… Breaking into a children's room?"

"…. Wait, wh-?"

"Forgetting your props?"

"… That stays strictly between you and me and your bloody cats!" Arthur snapped, turning a little red. He hated it when people pointed out his blunders, especially when it related with his alter ego's ones.

"I think I can do that. After all, I'm not in the business anymore." The Whisperer replied, shrugging. Arthur sighed and looked away.

"And now to the subject of sleep…" The ex-neutral super announced. Arthur groaned and leaned back into the beanie bag.

"Someone let me die." He muttered.

"You will, if you continue with this sleepless, caffeine-filled life." Heracles lectured, only making Arthur wish he were dead even more than before.

"I didn't come here to be lectured by you, _mum_." Arthur snapped. "I'm old enough to take care of myself."

"Your sarcasm is as humorous as ever." Heracles replied, not at the least offended, something that irritated the Brit opposite him. "But you're only twenty-three."

"So?"

"Over in Europe, most university students would have only just graduated."

"Well, I'm legally an adult and I behave properly and decently."

"Yes, because being a super villain is considered proper and decent behaviour."

"Oh shut up."

* * *

Arthur eventually got the Whisperer to get off his case, although he had promised he wouldn't do any more active super villain activities for a while (at least, not until Monday.) He then fell asleep on Heracles' beanie bag and didn't wake up until sometime after dinner. When he woke up, he found that he was late for that blasted karaoke night, to which he had been invited, much to his frustration (but thinking positively, he did feel a lot better than before now).

Heracles had left him surrounded by cats, so before Arthur could go to the bar, Arthur would have to have a shower, or at least, a change of clothes. He was covered from head to toe in cat hair. And he really didn't want to be known as "that lonely guy with a bunch of cats".

When he arrived at home, he had a quick shower and a change of dress. He briefly considered wearing what he used to wear, back in the "old" days (it felt like millenniums had gone by since his teen years), but decided against it.

He also tried taming his hair, at least a little bit, but his hair would unfortunately always be rebellious and refused to be tamed. After eventually giving up, Arthur searched for his trusty satchel and left his home, heading to the bar.

Oh how he hated his life right now.

Before Arthur left, he noticed a deck of cards lying on the table in his hallway. Arthur blinked at them, but then looked away, frowning. What to do? If he took the cards, he wouldn't have to pay for any drinks. But if he left them there, he would remain dull, old Arthur, which was quite important and very much needed. But being known as the guy with whom you'll always get free drinks was far better, than being known as boring old Arthur.

Sighing, the Brit turned away from the table and left the flat without his cards. He thought it would be better, if none of his "friends" knew about his knowledge in the realm of magic. Besides, it may ruin his fun later on. He wasn't sure when _later_ was, but he was sure it would be some time in the distant future. Could you even begin to imagine what kind of pranks he could pull on them, what with them being unaware that he was a magician? The possibilities were endless.

Arthur locked the front door behind himself and left. As he went to the bar, he thought about things he still needed to do. He needed to apply as a waiter at that party with the Rose of Britain, so that he could pull off his little trick later on, he needed to finish that suit of his, though it was already near completion and he needed to practice conning real people again and that was about it.

He had already regained his ability in magic, or at least, to the extent that he currently needed it, he had perfected making his logo and he had gotten fairly good at using his stun-gun, which was a miracle in itself, seeing as when he was younger, he had been the worst shot alive.

Then again, he'd also been the worst tailor alive. And now he was pretty sure that he could put even the best tailors to shame, or at least, he could when it came to making super costumes. After all, who could make a suit that was comfortable and practical for this area of life? As far as Arthur was concerned, no one but him could. The Brit paused in his thoughts, then smiled to himself.

He wondered who made the costumes for other super heroes and villains. He made his own costumes, but he was fairly certain that others most definitely didn't have the ability to put a thread through a needle, let alone make a more or less decent clothing piece, that should protect them from bullets, fire, and the like.

He guessed that there was either a tailor who specified in this area or that they had contacts, who did it for them. With villains, it was probably the latter, seeing as many super villains were criticized for still wearing outdated suits (such as wearing "undies over their tights", as the Super News Channel had once, ever so politely, said.)

Nowadays, supers had adapted their clothes to fit with modern fashion. Some do it to such an extent, that they change their costume design every year (such as Allure…), while others simply made sure that they weren't wearing anything outdated (such as America, Red Blitz, etc.)

While most still wore relatively tight clothing, it wasn't so tight that it could be considered some type of stretchable pyjama. In fact, quite often, it seemed that supers wore jeans for trousers, instead of those stereotypical tights, although Arthur had quickly learnt that those jeans most definitely weren't jeans.

He had once tried shooting a super, who had worn these "jeans", in the leg. It hadn't worked though, the bullet had simply flicking back at him like a ball bouncing off a wall. The bullet hadn't even left a mark in the trousers, let alone hurt the super. Therefore, you could say with certainty, that those weren't normal jeans, if they even _were_ jeans. Of course, many super heroes clothing still made Arthur want to groan, but it was by far better than what they used to wear.

Arthur looked up at the city he was surrounded in and let out a deep sigh. Why, again, had he agreed to a _karaoke _night of all things?

* * *

It was very, very late now, probably two in the morning or something. As it turned out, the Bad Touch Trio had managed to get very few people to come along, namely Feliciano and Lovino. Unfortunately, Feliciano and Lovino had failed at keeping any of the Bad Touch Trio, as well as Arthur, sober. The failure was mostly because they had ended up drunk too (well, Feliciano wasn't drunk, but that was because he couldn't legally drink yet.)

Arthur wasn't quite sure when, but eventually, Feliciano slinked off somewhere, to hide from his overly excited and loud friends, who cheered each other on, as they made an idiot of themselves on stage, singing some stupid song, horribly, horribly off tune (though Arthur had drunkenly commented that the real singers weren't much better.)

Gilbert was currently singing a duet with Francis, the song "My heart will go on and on", while the others laughed themselves silly at the two. You see, the ones on stage weren't taking the song very seriously at all and were having a bit of a battle for the spotlight, what with Gilbert shoving Francis off the stage, then the Frenchman retaliating, by throwing his wine over the German.

Arthur giggled, enjoying himself more than he would have admitted if sober, while taking another sip from his beer, applauding the two when the song finally ended. The barkeeper had an annoyed expression on his face, muttering something about if they weren't his best customers once upon a time, he would have kicked them out by now. No one else was left in the bar; it was deserted, minus the drunken friends, who were still laughing themselves silly over the stupid songs they had sung.

There had been a lot of variety and they (the Bad touch Trio) had eventually managed to get everyone in their group on stage, to sing merrily.

"Another song, another song!" Antonio said, swaying in his seat, while holding out his bottle of beer.

"Come on Artie, you haven't sung in a while." Gilbert said, but Arthur simply laughed in reply, pointing at the German. Eventually, the younger man managed to choke something out, that didn't sound like a laughing whale.

"You said my stomach will go on and on…" For some strange reason, Arthur thought that that was funnier than it should be, but he assumed that he was wrong and continued sniggering like crazy. Lovino was also fairly merry, playfully punching Antonio in the arm, while saying "You should sing, I think you're the only one capable of singing at this point!"

Arthur wondered why he had decided to break his soberness, but right now, he really didn't care. He did however care, that he had just finished his drink.

This was bad, because if he didn't get another drink soon, he would start feeling sick and pretty much like he was about to die. The bartender walked up to them, sighing.

"Guys, I need to close now and you're the only ones left." _Due to your bad singing._ Arthur saw through the sight and giggled. Yes, as the evening progressed, their singing _did_ get worse and worse, but it had been a lot of fun. Wait a second…

Where was his green vest? Arthur laughed and realised that he had given it to some girl he had fancied, a girl that had been equally drunk and gave him a quick snog, before walking off in her drunken stupor, _with_ his green vest. Arthur tugged at his tie that was tied around his head, feeling like he was fifteen again. Those had been the years, the years before he turned sixteen. Or at least, that's what he liked to think.

"Non, non, one more drink!" Francis begged, holding out his empty wine bottle (he had given up drinking from a glass a while ago). The bartender sighed and shook his head.

Suddenly, Feliciano appeared by the bartender's side and spoke up. Arthur was confused, wondering from where exactly Feliciano had come, but decided he really didn't care.

He needed another drink, and his bottle was empty. The Brit could already feel that horrid clenching feeling in his throat, associated with the need to puke and felt his head becoming horribly and painfully dizzy. And why did his muscles ache? Was he getting spasms? If he didn't get some alcohol soon, he really would be sick. Right now, the Brit felt like he would die.

"Don't worry Mr. Smith! I called some friends over, they'll be here any minute!" Feliciano said to the bartender, in hopes that said man wouldn't have to force them out. _Despite that I called them over three hours ago. _Arthur could see from Feliciano's face. The Briton didn't say anything about it though.

The bartender, also known as Mr. Smith, sighed deeply and nodded in agreement.

"Fine, but if they're not here in fifteen minutes, you and your friends are going to get kicked out." He said, before trotting back behind his bar.

"Ugh, guys, I think I'm going to be sick." Arthur muttered, covering his mouth and bending over slightly, as if being upside down would stop the rising bile. Unfortunately, Arthur's ability to balance himself didn't exist anymore and he instead fell off his chair.

Some giggles erupted from behind (or above?) him and Arthur felt himself also laugh at his own silliness, something he wasn't capable of doing when sober.

However, Feliciano wasn't laughing. He had a deep frown on his face, as he helped Arthur back to his feet.

"Still feel like being sick." Arthur muttered, clinging on to the poor Italian. Feliciano lost his balance and found himself sitting on Arthur's chair, Arthur back on the floor. Giggling burst out again and Feliciano turned red, both embarrassed and upset. This is why the Italian disliked it when his friends got drunk. They just seemed to be so… Well, like they didn't care about him.

Then again, apparently, Feliciano wouldn't mind so much, if he were drunk with them, as Gilbert once told him.

The door to the bar slammed open and some rather frantic-looking kids entered. The bartender looked surprised, having expected adults to enter, not… Children.

"I thought they said they wouldn't get drunk!" Inviso… No, _Mattie_ complained, as he walked over to the table. This was about the last thing Arthur could clearly remember, before he gave way to his sickness and felt like passing out. It was all a blur from there. He vaguely remembered being asked where his keys were and him admitting that he had given them to Francis for safe keeping, because of this one song, which involved a lot of "flexible" dancing (in other words, lots of kicking and jumping and looking like an idiot…. Not that they hadn't looked like an idiot before, but still…). He also remembered being sick and he was relatively sure that he didn't make it to a toilet.

Now Arthur found himself lying in a bed, some bed, somewhere in (hopefully) New Pond City. At the moment, he didn't care much about his location, because when he finally started waking up, the first thing he noticed, was that he had a hangover. Despite the hangover, Arthur managed to briefly feel happy that his hangovers were never too bad, no matter how much he drunk the previous night. However, for that, he got drunk relatively quickly and, whenever his body really couldn't cope anymore and wanted to pass out (he seemed capable of not passing out for a long time though, no matter how much he drank. Which is why he was always the winner at binge drinking.), he threw up first. And he threw up _everything_.

Arthur sighed, wishing he could get some painkillers for the headache, however, he wasn't focused enough to open his eyes quite yet. If he opened his eyes while not at least a little focused, Arthur's Sight kicked in too such an extent, that it was insanely painful. He could see all information around him when not focused, whether or not he was actually focusing on it or not.

While Arthur really appreciated having the Sight, it was a real (literal) pain in the mornings or whenever he had pushed himself too far (it took a lot for Arthur to push himself too far). Again, the Brit let out a deep breath and soon found that he could dare to open his eyes. He slowly let one eye open, as a scout, and then opened the other, before finally blinking. Arthur looked around the room, noticing that it was dark. Whoever had taken him home must have remembered that the Brit most definitely would have a hangover in the morning and had taken the precaution to make the room dark for him.

Arthur blinked again and looked at the table on the side. He saw a jug of water, with a glass and two painkillers next to it. There was also a note. Arthur didn't care much about the note at the moment and quickly poured himself a glass of water, throwing the pills in his mouth and swallowing them. He then finished the glass of water and realised how _thirsty_ he was. He was dehydrated from drinking too much alcohol.

He had probably had something to drink the night before, seeing as the dehydration wasn't causing him any discomfort (then again, the hangover was probably dominating all other pains), but he thought he should have a second glass anyway.

After getting some water into his body, Arthur lay back down in the bed and closed his eyes. When he would next wake up, the hangover should be gone, or at least, shouldn't be too bad.

The Brit slowly drifted back to sleep…

* * *

… Arthur was wrong. When he woke up again, everything was much, _much_ worse. It wasn't that he physically _felt_ worse, he actually felt a little better, but when he woke up, he finally realised where exactly he was. He may not be able to remember _how_ he got there, but he knew where he was.

Of all the places to wake up, why did it have to be the _Twins_ home? He didn't even know they _had_ a home! He had always assumed that they lived in the dorms of their college. Why would they have their _own home_? Arthur sat up and looked around. He was in their guest room and… And he was only in his underwear.

Arthur turned bright red at the idea that two enemies had seen him in only his undies, but then again, he was sure it could have been worse. He wasn't quite sure how, but he was sure he could think of something.

Oh.

He knew a worse scenario now.

Arthur sighed and sat up, about to get up, but then decided against it. The idea of wandering around in only boxers brought a lot of discomfort to Arthur, so he decided it was best to stay in bed, until something happened. He sighed and lay back down, bringing the duvet up to his chin. What should he do now? Arthur looked over at the note on the table. Maybe he should read it.

After looking around the room for a bit, not really seeing anything in particular, Arthur reached out and grabbed the note. He began reading it.

_Yo Artie_

…_._

The Brit growled, annoyed. He had _told_ that boy not to call him Artie. And what sort of "Hello" was that?

_Your probly wonderin where the heck you are. Well, your in my, Alfred F. Jones' place. And Matties I guess. But I spend more time here than he does! Anywho, yesterday, me and the others came to get you and the others out of the bar._

Arthur frowned, groaning. Just _looking_ at this painfully badly written note was giving the Brit a headache. Not only was the boy obviously terrible at grammar (or lazy), but he was also ever so descriptive and good at explaining events. America sure knew how to be informative, didn't he? Then again, it was those little things that reminded Arthur why America had yet to defeat him. Arthur continued reading, while massaging his forehead. Now that he thought about it, it probably wasn't America who had put the glass and jug of water on the table for him, along with the painkillers. Arthur also doubted that America had even bothered making the room dark for him.

It was probably that quieter, _nicer_ twin, what's-his-name…

Arthur continued reading the note, while also cringing at the butchered language.

_I woulda taken you home, but you gave Francis your keys for safekeeping or somethin like that so I was pretty much forced to take you back to my place, hope you don't mind! If your wonderin why your only in your boxers (seriously dude, the English flag?)-_

Arthur stifled a groan of annoyance. It wasn't the _English_ flag printed on his underwear. It was the _Union Jack._ The English flag was white and red. Arthur knew that if his cousins were here, they would have sworn to murder the boy by now (his cousins were from the different parts of the UK and Ireland).

_-its because you decided to puke last night. On my shirt. I think you did it deliberately. Anyway, not only my clothes got dirty, but also yours, so you had to get undressed so we could wash them. You may want to take a shower by the way. You smell._

Arthur's nose crinkled and he sniffed the air. He couldn't tell if he smelt or not. He didn't think he did, but he guessed he should take a shower anyway.

_Also, I put some water and painkillers out for you and made the room dark. I know how drunk people are _always_ cranky in the morning._

Arthur felt surprise at this. So it _had_ been Alfred who had done that? How… considerate. The Brit frowned, annoyed. That damn American shouldn't be allowed to be both obnoxious and considerate. That was contradictive, for crying out loud!

_This note is getting long, so I'll try to hurry up. When you wake up, I and Mattie won't be around (or probly won't be), cause I'm training and Mattie needs to get some groceries (he always takes forever at that!) Please don't leave the house until one of us gets back (I hope you didn't have any plans for this morning)._

Arthur sighed and got up. This was rather awkward. The twins trusted him not to do anything stupid at and to their home. Then again, Arthur _was_ older than them and he had already been labelled "that boring, mature guy", whether or not the others actually consciously thought that. He frowned and looked around the room. Other than the bed and night table, it wasn't particularly decorated. There were book cases here and there, but they didn't carry very many books. Arthur stretched and left the room, opening the door cautiously.

As far as the Brit was concerned, he was alone in the Twin's home. He sighed, wishing he could remember being sick on America. That would be a memory he'd always treasure, no matter how horrid the feeling of rising puke had been.

Arthur stepped out of the guest room, but felt some paper on the ground, under his foot. He picked it up.

_Alfred was stupid enough not to tell you where your clothes are. They've actually already been cleaned and ironed, I did that this morning. You'll find them in the night table. You can have a shower, if you want. The door opposite you right now is a bathroom. There are some clean towels in the closet next to the bath. I'm sorry you have to stay here, until one of us gets back, but I really need to get the groceries and I don't have time this afternoon. I hope you don't have plans! In the living room (downstairs), you'll find anything you want to entertain yourself, DVDs, TV, Books, Games. Feel free to use the kitchen for breakfast. I'm afraid we're running low on food though, so you'll have to make do with what we have. Again, sorry if this whole thing is awkward or inconvenient. We'll make it up to you! –Matthew_

Luckily, Arthur really didn't have any plans for that morning. Sighing, he decided to have a shower. He walked into the bathroom and frowned. There was no way either Alfred or Mattie could afford this, they were students. Their parents had to be supporting them. Which meant that their parents were loaded. The bathroom was large and spacious, not to mention that the bath was more like a miniature swimming pool than a bath _and_ it was fitted with a… A… It was fitted with a _Jacuzzi?_

Arthur smiled as he walked up to it, letting water in. Forget a bloody shower, if those two had left this luxury bath for him to use, he was going to bloody use it! Arthur couldn't even remember the last time he had had a bath anyway. He doubted he'd had one in years.

After the bath, the Brit wrapped a towel around his waist and dried his hair with another one. He frowned when he looked in the mirror. His hair looked wet and shaggy, like that of a dog that'd recently been washed. Arthur sighed, deciding that there wasn't anything he could exactly do about his hair. It had always been rebellious.

He left the bathroom and got dressed, feeling a lot better than he had earlier. That Jacuzzi had worked miracles.

As he finished buttoning up his shirt, he realised that he was missing something that he held very, very dear. Arthur looked around the room. Where was his satchel? He had left his home with his satchel, right? So where was it?

He walked downstairs and flinched at the bright light, surrounding the pastel and white coloured living room. He held a hand over his eyes, feeling the pain of sunlight in his eyes. He still had a hangover. The twins had probably made upstairs dark for him. Arthur noticed another piece of paper, however, this time it was a post-it note and it was stuck to the wall.

_If you're wondrin about your manbag-_

Arthur growled at that. _It's not a man bag, it's a _satchel. He thought to himself, angrily.

-_Its by the door. You kinda dumped it there and me and Mattie didn't know what to do with it._

"It's Mattie and _I._" Arthur said aloud, scrunching the letter up, annoyed. He sighed and walked over to "the door", as Alfred had so kindly put it, spotting his satchel relatively quickly. He opened the bag and searched in it for a while, before he finally found a pair of sunglasses, which he didn't hesitate to plop on his nose.

What most didn't know, was that Arthur tried to be prepared for all and any situations, and so, Arthur often had what he needed at any given moment. He once had even been so prepared, that he had also carried things around, that his _friends_ would need, such as an extra knife, pads, condoms, alcohol, battery chargers, etc.

Arthur smiled, feeling a little better about the darkened room. At least it didn't sting his eyes anymore. Arthur then noticed a post-it note on the door.

_So, still up for the summer fair this afternoon?_ It rather obnoxiously asked. Damn American.

* * *

**This chapter was pure fiction and pure fun to write. XD I have no idea how realistic it is, it probably isn't at all, especially since Arthur has not only woken up in a stranger's home, but also that said stranger left him alone in their home, despite not knowing him. Doesn't get more unrealistic than that ;)**

**I personally feel that super hero costumes are outdated. Why does no one else agree with me? **

**On another note, this chapter has been written and edited solely on the train. Even the A/N. Cool fact, huh?**

**Thank you all for 46 reviews. I'm still giddy about that. :D**

**Soooooooo…..**

**Review?**


	10. A Wish Come True

Arthur walked around the Twin's living room, arms crossed and scowling. He could leave, but that would not only be rude, it'd also be un-Arthur-Kirkland like. He had a mask (ha ha, a mask) to keep up and he couldn't let small details slip, especially not to supers, of all people.

He'd already messed up pretty badly with the Frog, he didn't want to mess up with anyone else. Sighing, Arthur went to the kitchen and found absolutely nothing to do. There were some fruits, so he ate them and then left again.

Arthur really wasn't up to doing much, his hangover making it difficult for him to concentrate. Books were, unfortunately, out of the question and he avoided watching TV or using any other electronics when he had a hangover.

He walked up and down the stairs a few times, but soon got bored of that and decided to, instead, start analyzing the Twin's private lives. Arthur was usually strictly against sniffing around a super's private life, however, it would always be useful to have some blackmail up his sleeve and he really didn't have anything else to do.

He walked into the living room and let his Sight roam free. The TV was used frequently, the most common channels being the Super News Channel (no surprise), the Cooking Channel, the Horror Channel and the Kids Channel. The Cooking Channel was the only channel that Alfred didn't use.

Arthur looked at the book case, discovering that most of the books were either receipes, comics or school books that the Twins had _had_ to read or simply needed to store somewhere. There were a few photo albums here and there, but Arthur decided not to look in them, unless he got absolutely bored.

He walked into the kitchen again. He hadn't noticed it before, but there were some soft toys sitting by the windowsill, hidden in a corner. They were all childhood toys. One was a large polar bear, which belonged to... Thingymajig and the other was a brown bunny, which was Alfreds. There was also another toy, a smaller one. It was almost unnoticeable, being slotted between the much larger stuffed animals. It was a green bunny with...

...

It had wings.

Arthur picked the bunny up in disbelief, analyzing it. There was no way this creature could be what he thought it was. He had given it away when he was little, so there was no way it could be here, unless...

Arthur almost dropped it, his Sight happily telling him its background information.

Its name was Flying Mint Bunny and it had been made by Jane Kirkland for Arthur Kirkland, as his first toy ever...

Arthur hadn't kept it though, despite it being so precious to him.

He bit his lip and remembered the last day he ever saw Flying Mint Bunny.

* * *

_"Daddy, why do we have to leave auntie and uncle and Alfie and Mattie?" Arthur repeated, staring at the emptiness, which had once been his room. Moving had been slow and painful, but the day had finally come, in which the Kirklands left Canada for good and moved down to New York City._

_His father looked at his son from the doorway and let out a tired sigh.  
_

_"I'm sorry love, but some things simply have to happen."  
_

_"But I like it here, with auntie and uncle and Alfire and Mattie." Arthur replied, hugging his toy to his chest. He really didn't like the fact that he was "abandoning" them.  
_

_"Yes, I know love. I know." His father replied and entered the room, to hug his son. Arthur didn't hug back and soon struggled out of his father's embrace, running out of the empty children's bedroom.  
_

_"But why do we have to leave Canadia?" Arthur demanded, pouting, while crossing his arms.  
_

_"Canada." His father corrected, making Arthur confused.  
_

_"Canada?" The boy asked.  
_

_"This country's called Canada, not Canadia. And I guess, you could say that that's the first reason why we have to go. You can't even pronounce the country's name correctly." His father said this humourously, but Arthur didn't pick up on it.  
_

_"... Will I still be able to come and visit auntie and uncle and Alfie and Mattie?" Arthur asked, entering the empty living room. His father was about to shake his head, but at the last second, decided against it. He nodded instead. He didn't want Arthur to know that they'd never see the Williams again.  
_

_"Hey, are you guys ready to go?" Uncle asked, a fake smile appearing on his face. Arthur vaguely noticed Uncle's watery eyes. His Canadian-French accent was stronger than usual.  
_

_"Yes. Come on Arthur." The father replied and Arthur hurriedly grabbed his luggage and held his father's hand. As they put the luggage into Uncle's car, Arthur paused thoughtfully and looked at his soft toy. He then looked at his father.  
_

_"Daddy?" Arthur asked uncertainly.  
_

_"Yes love?" His dad replied, as he picked up Arthur's suitcase, to put it in the back.  
_

_"... You know you said that babies forget stuff quickly?" Arthur asked, standing on his tiptoes, so he could make himself look taller and older.  
_

_"... Yes?" His father asked, wondering where his son was going with this.  
_

_"Do you think Alfie and Mattie will... Do you think they'll forget me?" Arthur asked, looking upset. He clutched his toy tighter to his chest.  
_

_"Of course not!" Uncle spoke up, hearing them. "They'll never forget you! You're their "big brother" after all!" Both Arthur's father and Uncle smiled at that, as if remembering an old joke. Arthur didn't understand why they were acting like that, he had never understood it. Arthur _was _Alfie's and Mattie's big brother, he looked after them and cared for them and everything... Well, Auntie did all the icky stuff, but Arthur helped feed them and played with them._

_Arthur decided that adults were very, very strange things indeed.  
_

_"But... They could forget me, couldn't they?" He asked uncertainly.  
_

_To this, neither man replied. They settled for sharing a look. They then looked at Arthur. The boy felt uncomfortable under their gazes and squirmed._

_He looked at his soft toy.  
_

_"... Can I go and say goodbye to them then? I haven't had a chance yet!" Arthur asked, an idea sprouting out in his mind. He was pretty sure that Alfie and Mattie wouldn't forget him, if he left something behind, that would force them to remember.  
_

_"Well, I guess we can wait a few more minutes." Uncle slowly said, making Arthur's father glare at him. Arthur smiled brightly and gave him thanks, before shooting back up into the apartments, running to the flat in which the Williams lived.  
_

_He knocked on the door.  
_

_It opened.  
_

_"Oh, Arthur! I wasn't..." Auntie said. Arthur gave her his most innocent smile.  
_

_"I know that Alfie and Mattie are sleeping, but can I quickly say goodbye? I promise I won't wake them!" Arthur asked. Auntie blinked, before nodding silently, as she moved out the way for the boy. He hurriedly walked over to the twins' room and carefully opened the door.  
_

_In two cots lay his younger brothers, sleeping quietly. Arthur smiled brightly and walked up to Alfie's cot, only to frown annoyed.  
_

_He couldn't reach Mattie or Alfie, because the cot's bars were in the way and he was too short. Neither could he pick them up, because he was... He wasn't quite strong enough and the bars were too high. Arthur was annoyed by this. He had wanted to hug and kiss them goodbye, but he guessed that seeing them one last time would have to do for now.  
_

_He looked at his toy, his favourite one and suddenly felt unsure. Did he really want to give up Flying Mint Bunny for them? Really?  
_

_He was aware that it would never be his again and that it was one of the few things his mother had ever given him. Also, if he gave it to the twins, would he ever see it again?_

_But then again, what was more important? Being remembered and losing Flying Mint Bunny or being forgotten and keeping Flying Mint Bunny?  
_

_Did he want Alfie and Mattie to forget about him when he left? Did he want them to not remember him, when he next saw them? Sighing deeply, Arthur placed his toy in Alfie's cot, squeezing the bunny through the bars, before leaving the room and closing the door quietly.  
_

_He then said goodbye to Auntie and climbed into the car, next to his father, with Uncle in the driver's seat. Arthur looked out the window, watching the sun shine brightly down at him.  
_

_That was the day he left Canada and probably ended the better part of his childhood. Arthur didn't know that at the time though. He simply, innocently, stared out the window, a slight buzz of excitement within him. He had been looking forward to living in a city as big as New York.  
_

* * *

Of course, the Williams weren't really Arthur's aunt and uncle. They were just their neighbours, who both Arthur and his father had had the luck of getting to know and growing close to.

But Mattie and Alfie... They... They were _t__hose_ two? _His_ Alfie and _his_ Mattie...

They were _those two?_

The _T__wins?_

_Really?_

Did he somehow know every bloody super hero in his past at some point or something?

Arthur placed the bunny back between the polar bear and the regular bunny, scrambling away from it as fast as possible.

When he was a boy, he had begged and begged his father to let them go back to Canada, so that he could see his "little brothers" again. His father had always said no though. No worse, his father had _lied_ to him and said that they'd go next summer.

At some point, Arthur had realised the lies and had then stopped asking.

Instead, he had started staying up late at night, so he could stare at the stars for hours. He had done this in hopes of seeing a shooting star.

You see, when Arthur was younger, he had tried all sorts of wishing methods and soon figured that wishing upon a shooting star was the only way to go about getting a wish come true.

Sadly though, what with living in New York City, he could barely ever see a single star, let alone a shooting one.

However, being the stubborn man (or back then, boy) that he was, he had never stopped looking at the stars, searching for one.

And because of that same stubborness, Arthur, once, _di__d_ managed to spot one.

But just once though.

And it hadn't even been in New York.

* * *

_He had left the city with Lizzy, for the weekend, along with the rest of their gang._

_He wasn't quite sure why they had decided to leave, but it involved a conversation with a rival gang. Arthur had wanted to know why they needed to go to the forests, but Lizzy had simply replied with a "shut yer gob, lad. Before someone gives ya one."  
_

_Arthur shifted his position, so that he was more comfortable. He placed a hand on his forehead and looked up at the skies sleepily.  
_

_It was late at night and the rest of the gang had gone to sleep in their tents. Arthur had, against orders, stayed up though. He had noticed that he could see the stars better out here and decided to carry out his tradition that night._

_He knew Lizzy wouldn't be happy, but staring at the stars until he fell asleep was one of his personal traditions and not even his gang could force him to break it.  
_

_Heck, he doubted even the Queen of England herself could make him break it.  
_

_"Arthur!" He heard. He jerked up and looked around. Had he mentioned he'd been ordered to bed by Lizzy? She _really_ didn't like it when someone disobeyed her._

_"What're ya doin' out here? I told ya to go t'bed!" Lizzy whispered, a deep frown on her face. Philip was with her. They looked a little dirty and roughed up.  
_

_Philip was sporting a big bruise along his jawline. Lizzy had a few scratches on her upper left arm.  
_

_Arthur wasn't able to say anything, hiding behind the log he had been resting on.  
_

_"Er..." He stuttered, before Lizzy interrupted him.  
_

_"No, I'll talk to ya privately. Phips, go t'bed." Philip glared at her (he disliked the nickname), but went to his tent anyway, without complaint or retort. Lizzy came over and sat down next to Arthur, wrapping an arm around him, much to his surprise and possibly discomfort.  
_

_Where were the angry fireworks she was known for?  
_

_"What're you still doin' up so late, lad?" She asked, letting out a deep sigh, as if tired in a non-tired way. Arthur hesitated and turned red, embarrassed for the reason he was out.  
_

_"I'm stargazing." Arthur said, hoping this was more than enough of an explanation. He was wrong.  
_

_"Yeah, but why? Why d'ya never tell me you stargazed anyway?"  
_

_"Well, I don't stargaze as such. Er... I just like looking at them." Lizzy sighed, shaking her head and lying down, head against the log.  
_

_"Well, surely ya know somethin' then." She muttered, looking up at the skies.  
_

_"Um..." Arthur replied, fidgeting. He sighed and started pointing at different stars and naming them. He then proceeded to show Lizzy different star constellations. When he finished, he had to jerk Lizzy awake, who laughed nervously.  
_

_"Ah, I must be more tired than I thought!" She said. "Gee, you must like stars an awful lot to know all that!"  
_

_"Actually, I'm not that interested. I just learnt some stuff, to pass the time."  
_

_"Wait lad, if you're not all that interested in stars, why learn all that?"  
_

_"Oh, er... No, it's silly, really."  
_

_"What is?" Arthur smiled at her, a mixture of amusement and embarrassment evident on his face. He was amused by the fact that Lizzy switched to "posh" English whenever she talked to him and embarrassed, because of the reason he was stargazing.  
_

_"... When I was younger, I lived in Canada. Did you know that?"  
_

_"No. No I didn't. But you _know_ we don't-"_

_"There were two boys there, they were like brothers to me. When we moved to New York, my dad didn't let me see them anymore. When I finally realised this, I..." Arthur paused, biting his lips embarrassed.  
_

_"... I stayed up late every night, so I could see a shooting star. I wanted to make a wish, that I'd see them again, because I thought shooting star wishes come true, unlike... Other wishes..." He admitted. But to his surprise, Lizzy didn't laugh. Or roll her eyes. Or look at him, like he'd grown a second head. _

_No, she simply smiled softly and kissed him gently on the forehead.  
_

_"Ah, you're a sweet one, Artie." She said, ruffling his hair. He brushed her hand off. Even though this was Lizzy, he refused to let anyone ruffle his hair. That right used to be reserved for his father. Now it was reserved for no one.  
_

_She laughed lightly at his reaction.  
_

_"Aren't you going to laugh at me? Call me a sissy or gay or something?"  
_

_"No. It's sweet. I wish more guys could be like you." Lizzy replied, smiling. Arthur blushed and gave the skies his attention again.  
_

_"Do you still wish to see them?" Lizzy asked after a while, as they both dreamily stared up at the stars, enjoying the unsual peacefulness around them.  
_

_"Pff, no. They're kids now, they wouldn't remember me. It's best I never see them again." Arthur replied, crossing his arms and frowning. It was obvious he wanted to see them again, even though he denied it.  
_

_"Is that so?" Lizzy asked, smiling. She saw right through him.  
_

_"Yes." Arthur replied.  
_

_"So, what if I told you there's a shooting star?"  
_

_"Huh?"  
_

_Lizzy pointed at a star, shooting across the skies. But it wasn't alone. After it, a few more shot by. And more after that. Was this a meteorite shower? Possibly... But it was too good to be true! ... Right?_

_Arthur gaped and was unable to say anything for a moment. He then finally smiled.  
_

_"Did ya make ya wish?" Lizzy asked, grinning at Arthur. He nodded.  
_

_"Now it's just a question of whether or not it'll come true." Arthur replied and the two laid back down on the ground, to watch the stars, until they finally fell asleep, under the open night skies.  
_

* * *

But that had been years ago. He really hadn't expected his wish to ever come true. Neither had he thought that he and the other two would be enemies in the future.

Then again, he hadn't expected to be a super villain when he grew up.

Did the two remember him? Probably not, since they'd only been two years old at the time, but how come Arthur didn't make the connection sooner?

He had seen them often enough to know their basic background histories... Then again, personal relationships wasn't exactly "background" information.

Also, the Sight didn't consider "People who once knew Arthur Kirkland" a part of basic knowledge, so it wouldn't have been obvious...

But after five years, Arthur should have figured out something by now! Then again... Then again, he rarely remembered thingymajigs' name, let alone facts about him and Alfred...

Well, Alfred, was called Jones now, for one reason or another. Of course Arthur wouldn't think of his "little brother" whenever he glanced at Alfred _Jones_.

Arthur sighed and walked into the living room, sitting down and massaging his forehead.

"I need a drink..." He muttered, despite knowing that he really needed tea, not an alcoholic beverage. He really didn't like this connection he had with the Twins.

He really, really didn't like it.

He ruffled his hair and sighed.

"No time like the present." He then muttered, getting off the sofa and walking back up the stairs, to do some exploring. So, he had once known the twins, back when the two were in diapers, big deal. Having once known someone meant nothing. They were essentially strangers now. The fact that they had once known each other was now irrelavent.

Right?

Arthur walked around the rooms, then back into the living room, finding nothing to do. While he wanted to investigate this new and strange place, he didn't want to intrude or be rude.

He walked to his satchel and took out one of his notebooks. It was high time he did some reviewing and noting anyway.

* * *

"Hello? Arthur, are you still there?" Mattie called out, opening the front door. He felt very, _very_ guilty about leaving his home while hosting a guest. At least they had tried to act appropriately, even if they probably failed miserably.

"Hello! Yes, I'm still here." Arthur replied, coming down the stairs. He was glad Matthew hadn't entered while he'd been flicking through his notes. _That_ would have been awkward.

"Ah hi! You still remember me, right?" Matthew asked, dropping his keys in a bowl and awkwardly shuffling through the door.

"Yes, you're... Matthew, right?" Arthur asked. After all, from Matthew's knowledge, the two had only met once. To Matthew, Arthur was still a complete stranger.

"Actually, most call me Mattie. You can blame Alfred for that." Matte said, smiling.

"Is that so?" Arthur asked, although he lacked any interest in this particular fact. He then noticed the three bags Mattie was carrying.

"Do you need any help?" He asked, also noticing that the Canadian was having difficulties balancing his shopping. While the Magician would never help his enemy, unless he could benefit from it, Kirkland prided himself in being a gentleman.

That pretty much forced Arthur to give a hand.

"Oh no, I'm fine." Mattie replied, waving it off and smiling politely. It was then that gravity decided to claim the bags and they fell to the floor. Arthur quickly reacted, catching all three. He caught two on one arm, the other in his hand. The shopping wasn't spillt all over the floor.

Mattie stared blankly at Arthur, who was now smiling awkwardly.

"... Uh... Comes with being a waiter." Arthur explained, handing the Canadian the food. Arthur was, of course, lying. The only reason he was able to react sp quickly, was because he had that lovely alter ego of his. Not that this little bit of information was important. Mattie bought Arthur's little lie.

The Canadian proceeded to walk into the kitchen.

"Matthew-"

"Mattie."

"Sorry. Mattie, your name is Matthew Williams, correct?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Well, Alfred's surname is Jones, but you two are brothers. How can that..."

"Oh. Our parents divorced when we were little. I think we were three or something. Mom went back to the USA with Alfred, while my dad and I stayed in Canada."

"Oh! I'm sorry to hear-"

"No, no, it's all good now. Mom and Papa are remarried and do charity work in Africa... They won the lottery, you see."

"Oh. How interesting... Wait, so you and Alfred. Was there a time when you didn't know the other existed?"

Arthur could simply use the Sight to figure this out, but he preferred learning things from the other person and letting them tell him. It was like reading a book. You don't read ahead, you take it one step at a time and get to know the characters of the story.

"Erm. Actually, yeah... We found out about each other when we were fourteen. We then kind of pulled off a Parent-Trap kind of thing on them and by the time we were fifteen, they were remarried. Luckily, unlike in that movie, Alfred didn't have any kind of rival feelings towards me. That would have ended badly. And we didn't switch places to meet our other parents either. Because that would have also been stupid..." Mattie paused, realising he was rambling and cleared his throat.

"So er... Are you still up for the summer fair?" He asked, placing some things in the fridge. Arthur sighed and rubbed his forehead.

"Do I have a choice?" He asked. Mattie smiled understandingly and shook his head.

"I suppose not. Alfred can sure be persistant when he wants to be."

"You don't say." Arthur replied, crossing his arms. He leaned against a wall and sighed deeply. "I guess it won't kill me to go. But I won't be there for long." Mattie nodded and folded up the bags, placing them in a cupboard.

"So, I guess you can go home if you want." Mattie said awkwardly. "I hope you didn't mind..."

"Oh no, no, I don't mind. I've had more awkward things happen to me." Arthur replied, waving it off. "And at least I more or less knew you and Alfred already, right?"

"I suppose."

"Well..." A silence ensued and the two stood there, in the kitchen, unsure of what to say. They were both hesitant and avoiding eye contact.

"Well, I'll be off then. See you later, this afternoon. I look forward to it." Arthur said, walking out of the kitchen, waving the Canadian goodbye. Mattie smiled and nodded, waving back.

Arthur quickly grabbed his satchel and left the apartment. Nice, two-floored, spacious apartment. The parents must have won an awful lot of money in that lottery.

* * *

When Arthur got home, he got into a new change of clothes, then left his flat again. He wanted to quickly pop by the corner shop and buy some newspapers, before going to that blasted summer fair (it wasn't even summer yet). Arthur had some reading to do anyway.

"Hello Vash." Arthur greeted, entering the shop. The young Swiss man nodded, his arms crossed.

"Haven't seen you for a few weeks." Vash replied, not even bothering to smile. It'd be too much effort for the otherwise neutral Swiss.

"I've been busy." Arthur muttered, shrugging. "I'm getting a new job." He added, trying to be conversational.

"Is that so?" Vash asked, stiffly.

"Yes." Arthur replied, although he didn't continue talking. The conversation immediately came to an end there. Arthur picked out a few newspapesr and put them on the counter. The Brit already knew how much they'd cost and placed the money on the counter.

"Hm. Buying a New Heta Paper?"

"Yes."

"Alright." Vash replied, shrugging. "Anything else do you want?" He then proceeded to ask. Arthur shook his head.

"No, that's all."

"Alright. Good day then." Vash said. Arthur nodded goodbye and left the shop. It wasn't that Arthur disliked or hated Vash, it was just that being with the Swiss was so _awkward_. The kid simply wasn't capable of making small talk and generally being pleasant, unlike (thank goodness) his sister.

Arthur took a deep breath and sat down on a park bench, flipping through his bought newspapers. It had been three weeks since the Magician had last been seen. He was curious to see if anyone had noticed.

Flipping through them lazily, Arthur managed to find a small article, which noted that the Magician had disappeared "again". However, this wasn't causing any particular uproar. No one cared if the Magician disappeared at this point in time.

Arthur grinned and leaned back, looking up at the blue skies.

Oh, but they would care. Very, very soon, they would care _very_ much.

He couldn't wait.

* * *

**The reason why everyone calls Canada "Mattie", rather than _Matthew_, is because one of my close relatives has that name and I find it extremely awkward to use it on a character. I Hope you all respect that and don't mind.  
**

**I named Arthur's mother Jane, on the basis that Jane is a gazillion times better than Britney, which is already overused in the fandom. Also, Lady Jane Grey is one of my favourite Monarchs, despite only reigning for nine days... So yeah.  
**

**I don't actually like the film "The Parent Trap"(remake), so I don't know why I'm referencing it.  
**

**I reread the whole of the Magician to see how much time has gone by. And I was like "What? Only three weeks? Woah." (It's been exactly three weeks since the story started :3)  
**

**YES. FIFTY REVIEWS. THANK YOU.  
**

**Also, you may have noticed all my fanfictions have gone a hiatus, minus this one. This is because this is the only one which I'm self-motivated to write (meaning I'm not completely dependant on reviews to keep this fanfiction going... Though they're nice. Very nice. Nicer than nice. Nicer than Italy). It's also because the update pauses are so long, I can summon up time to write and edit it. :D  
**

**Sooo... Review?**


	11. Amateur!

"No, no, I agree with you. I think it would be better for me to be anonymous. Oh, is that so? Well, that's nice. Great. I'll try to give you an article by Monday then. Good day."

And with that, Arthur hung up, somewhat pleased with himself. He had just talked to his new boss, Edelstein, and things, despite a minor hangover and the horrors of the summer fair, were looking good.

Arthur would now earn more money than he had as a waiter and would be an anonymous journalist for the New Heta Papers (the Name was yet to be decided). Edelstein was impressed by Arthur's work, even though he had tried to hide it.

After all, everyone knew that it was never _that_ easy to write articles about supers.

The Brit pocketed his phone and picked up his satchel, sighing. Now it was time for four hours of pain, misery and being stuck with your worst enemies.

Fun.

* * *

On arrival at the Summer Fair, they split into groups. Arthur was stuck with Alfred, Feliciano, Kiku and Lovino, much to his displeasure.

However, he could have ended up stuck with the Frog, so this was the better alternative (or at least, he hoped so). Alfred had quite enthusiastically dragged the whole group to the shooting booths, while Francis had lead his group towards the stalls that sold things from across seas (and also the kissing booth).

It had now been a good half-hour since they had arrived at this cheap, pickpocketing fair and so far, Arthur was not enjoying it.

He'd only ever been to fairs in order to practice pickpocketing, back in his teen yeras. The idea of actually going to a fair to _spend_ money was absolutely absurd.

Why use your own cash, if you could spend someone else's?

Arthur frowned deeply, his arms crossed. They were in front of a laser-shooting booth. Feliciano and Lovino were paying for a _lot_ of rounds, although Lovino had won quite a few things, unlike Feliciano...

Let's not speak of the poor thing.

The woman in charge of booth was bored. It wasn't because she was watching Feliciano's pathetic attempts to win something though. It was because of a certain debate between one American and one stubborn Brit. Her hand tapped against the table surface impatiently.

A child walked up to her, placing some money onto the counter. Her head barely nodded, she was too frustrated to do anything else that wouldn't result in her arrest.

"Come on Artie, one round! I'll even pay if it's such a big deal!"

"Arthur. _No on_e calls me _Artie_. And no, I'm fine."

"But dude, it's the _fair_, place of fun and awesome times? You're not having _any_ fun though! And that's because you haven't been spending cash on fun things!"

"That's because I don't want to waste money on something stupid, like _that_." Arthur replied, waving at the booth. The lady running it frowned, crossing her arms. There was no such thing as a waste of money when it came to _her_ booth.

Well, unless you're that poor Italian fellow, of course.

"From which planet do you come from? Pluto?" Alfred asked loudly, shocked that someone would consider shooting little plastic things a waste of time.

"I just have a different definition of "fun", alright?I'm not a very good shot anyway."

Alfred pouted.

"But come on, doing the shooting booths is a warm-up for the rollercoasters!"

"No."

"I'll help ya win something~."

"No."

"But Artie~"

"_Arthur_."

"Alfred! I think they have a new shooting booth over there!" Kiku suddenly spoke up, jumping the two out of their conversation. They stared at him awkwardly for a moment, before Alfred finally processed this new and sudden information.

"Really? A new booth?"

"Hai. Just around the corner."

"... Well, let's go!" Alfred quickly responded, grabbing Kiku's arm and dragging him behind a corner, excitedly running towards the supposed new booth. Kiku smiled at Arthur, as if saying "You owe me", before disappearing. Arthur sighed.

He shouldn't have had so much difficulty in making Alfred leave him alone. Maybe it was the hangover, maybe it was the sudden revelation of who Alfred was to him. He didn't know.

Arthur shook his head. He would _not_ let that revelation get in his way _ever_. They were completely different people now and being sentimental about something as pathetic as _that_ was just... Stupid. Besides, it was a good thing Arthur _wasn't_ a nostalgic person, because otherwise, ignoring this connection would be difficult for him.

... Because he's not nostalgic. Not at all. Nope. Not him. No siree.

Arthur sighed and watched Feliciano's pathetic attempts to hit something. He really pitied the younger man, as he pretty much failed to hit any of the targets, even the painfully large ones.

The Brit looked around quickly, noticing that Lovino had left, which mean that Kirkland and Feliciano were alone. Perfect.

Arthur walked up to Feliciano, who had just given the booth his last shot. He looked rather upset, his eyes large and teary, but he hadn't bursted out into tears. Not yet.

"Three rounds please." Arthur asked to the woman behind the booth. Feliciano turned to him surprised, but said nothing.

The woman was likewise surprised, but wasn't about to complain about that turn of events.

Arthur was given a gun, which he immediately loaded.

"What were you trying to win?" Arthur asked, cocking his gun.

"... Er... A... Goldfish." The Italian replied. Arthur looked at him surprised, but then shrugged it off.

"Fine." He said. He looked around the booth at the targets. Hitting a smaller one gave a lot of points, hitting a larger one in the heart gave you even more.

Arthur wasn't completely lying when he said he wasn't a _good_ shot. He could not shoot like America could, but what he _could_ do was hit the targets, near center. He just wasn't likely to hit anything in the heart.

Arthur took aim. He focused on one target. Three shots rang out, whizzing through the air. Arthur smirked, pleased with himself.

"I thought you said you weren't a good aim." The woman said, picking out a goldfish from her fishtank. Arthur shrugged in reply.

"Not good enough to shoot the three larger targets in the core."

"Still better than that poor fellow." The woman replied. "Here's your win. Enjoy. And thank you for playing."

Arthur nodded, then turned to Feliciano.

"Here, I think this is yours." He said. "Now come on, let's catch up with the others."

"Buh... W-wait, Arthur..." Feliciano said, running up behind him. The Brit turned, with a mildly puzzled expression (which vanished relatively quickly).

"You won this." Feliciano said, showing Arthur the gold fish. "Him, I mean. You won him. You shouldn't just give him away."

"I only played, so you could have that goldfish. Otherwise you'd still be standing there right now." Arthur responded, rolling his eyes.

"... Yeah but... Well... Well, consider this an official retirement present from grandpa's restaurant." Feliciano replied, shoving it into Arthur's arms. He stared at the Italian blankly, before nodding.

"... Ok."

"Ve~ Great! Now, let's go!" The Italian replied. Arthur nodded again, then looked at the goldfish.

_Idiot. Now I have a pet. Ugh, I don't have time for this. Besides, I'm _not _retiring!_

He tapped his foot, annoyed.

_And this is a female Goldfish, not a male one._

He frowned.

_... Well, I guess you need a name... Hello Geraldine._

* * *

"I_... _I don't like this." Arthur said, as he clung to his seat. They were on a roller coaster and heading upwards.

Now, this wouldn't be too bad, if it weren't for a) Arthur had never been on a coaster before and b) This place was cheap. Who was to say it wouldn't fall apart at the snap of his fingers? Alfred was sitting next to him, having been the only one to convince him on to the damned contraption.

They had also been split from the others, who were still waiting in line.

"Too late to get off now!" Alfred replied, grinning. Arthur said nothing, his hands gripping the bar in front of him firmly.

"... Really... Don't... Like..." Arthur muttered, when he realised they'd reached the top.

"Here we goooo!" Alfred said, before the screaming started. The thing shot down and Arthur could have sworn he was falling. Then, with a jolt, it went straight up and down again, making the Brit terrified and start screaming.

However, his voice was swallowed away by other screams, much louder than his.

This "Horror" lasted for two minutes, as Arthur was swished around from side to side, with an annoying American sitting next to him, grinning like a psychopath (was Alfred_ really_ a good guy? Arthur now had his doubts).

As they reached the station, Arthur breathed out in relief.

"Finally. It's over." He muttered, combing a hand through his hair.

"You kidding? This is a four minute ride!"

"What?"

"Round two, coming up~!" Alfred replied grinning. Arthur could have started crying at that moment. They, once again, travelled upwards. Arthur could have sworn he'd started hyperventilating, but it was probably his imagination. After all, no one was asking him whether he was OK or looking at him strangely.

_Oh lord, we've reached the fucking top... Ffffuck... Please stop, please stop, I don't want to go through this again!_

They reached the top. It slowly started to make that grinding noise of brakes, the sound that in a minute, they would be falling towards the Earth at high speeds again.

But then there was another unwanted sound.

Arthur's stomach lurched.

The roller coaster had stopped moving.

_... Why does a villian have to strike _now_? _Arthur thought, having already guessed what was going on (thanks to the Sight).

Alfred was wary, looking left and right, much like the other passengers. The American had two suspicions, that either the ride had just gone bust on them or that one of his enemies was behind this.

Arthur rolled his eyes and looked around.

It wasn't so bad, being stuck up here, really. At least they weren't moving. And there were plenty of supers around to help them, so no big deal.

That's what the Brit kept telling himself.

Arthur noted that time seemed to have slowed down, but that was just him. When a major event was about to kick in, time _always_ seemed to slow down to him, because he went into full alert and let his Sight run free over his location, drawing a lot of information in, in just a few split-seconds.

From what Arthur could see, it wasn't just _his_ ride that had come to a halt. The whole fair had suddenly stopped working, all electricity gone.

There was a list of people who could be behind this. Arthur could quickly guess who exactly it was though. Arthur knew twelve people with electrical powers that had ever dwelled in New Pond City.

It couldn't be Germanium or Red Blitz, they were good guys. There were also the four amateur heroes, who united themselves under the name Fear Volts, but it couldn't be them. And that's not just because of the rather bad super hero team name with a horrid German pun.

Even though the four barely had their powers under control, the blackout was far _too_ controlled for it to be a fluke from any of the four members.

That left six people he knew. One was a bad guy in New York City and usually, villains from different cities didn't clash, seeing as each set of rules in the Super Villain World varies from City to City. The guy had only come down here once, because he'd been hired for a job. After that, he never came back again.

Another Bad Guy worked in Europe. He was an Enemy of Young Santa (in case you forgot, Young Santa is Tino Väinäö... Whatever). The reason it couldn't be _him_, is simply because Young Santa was in Europe right now. That meant, that the villain had to also be in Europe.

Now there were Four left.

One of the four was a young teen, who had decided to be a neutral super, so she could lead a normal life. She also had no secret alter ego, so she was neither a villain nor a hero.

Two electrical super villains were sitting in prison, thanks to yours truly, Jeanne Ofarcher, head of police.

So that meant only one person left. One of America's favourite super villains. Joy.

"It is _me_, _Electron_! And I have returned to challenge America!" A guy in an outdated jumpsuit yelled out to the crowds, appearing on top of the highest part of the Summer fair, which coincidentally was the roller coaster.

Arthur frowned. He hated it when he ended up a victim to a villains scheme. _Especially_ when it was to a villain as pathetic as Electron.

So, OK, Electron was the second right hand man of Cold Bite, however, who could take someone seriously, with a name like _Electron_? Come on, seriously?

Did _no_ one have _creativity_ when it came to name choosing? Then again, who was he to complain? He _was _called the Magician. It didn't get much more uncreative than that (unless you consider Allure's or America's super names).

Alfred had gone into panic mode. Super heroes weren't allowed to intervene when the bad guy challenged one specific super, unless the challenged super called for help, too much damage was being caused or people were in harms way.

So until Electron had hurt someone or actually put them in harms way, Arthur would be stuck up... _Here_ for a _long_ time.

At least all the supers had gone off to get changed into their costumes, in case back-up was needed.

Alfred was trying to figure out how to get down, without being noticed. But that would be impossible. The people in front of and behind Arthur were panicking. Arthur sighed, wishing he'd stayed back at home in his nice little flat. Life could have been so much nicer.

"So much for fun at the summer fair..." Arthur muttered sarcastically, rubbing his forehead. Alfred turned to him, surprised.

"Huh? Aren't you scared?"

"Hm, what?"

"Aren't you scared? Frightened? Panicked?"

"Er... W-well, of course I am! I'm just a normal guy after all!" Arthur replied, lying through his teeth. Of course he wasn't scared, he was a super villain! Super Villains do not get scared of other ones!

Unless they're the Great Dragon or Cold Bite, of course, but those two were nothing Arthur couldn't deal with. Even thought they were twice his size. And stronger. With super powers...

Yep, Arthur could definitely handle them. Nothing to worry about.

"America! I know you're out there! Come and fight me, like a man!" Electron challenged again, his voice edged with annoyance. The guy was wondering why his foe was ignoring him.

Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Oh, where is America, I am so scared." Arthur muttered, with a bored voice. Alfred smiled awkwardly, actually believing Arthur's words. This made the Brit want to jump off the roller coaster and commit suicide right then and there.

His voice was _laced_ with sarcasm, how could this guy _not see it_?

"It's OK Artie-"

"Arthur."

"-I'll protect ya!"

"You."

"Right, yeah. That's what I said."

"... Isn't it about time for America to appear?" Arthur asked, deciding to have _some_ fun if he was going to be stuck up here for a while.

And he could consider this revenge for what Alfred had put him through, not five minutes ago.

"Er..." Alfred replied. The American was probably thinking something along the lines of "If he knew _I_ was America...". Arthur got an idea and bit back a grin.

"Say... Wait, did I ever tell you, you look familiar? Like I've seen you somewhere before? On the telly or something... Kinda like... Americ..."

Alfred panicked. Arthur looked away, letting out his grin. That expression was priceless.

Who would have thought that Kirkland was capable of something the Magician wasn't capable of? Sure, the Magician had made America panic before, but not to the same degree as Kirkland.

It was hilarious.

"... Is it me, or do you look a bit like... Well... No, it's ridiculous... Right?"

"Er... Y-yeah! Right! Totally, absolutely stupid, I mean, look at me! Could _I_ really be a, uh... A guy as awesome as America? Pff, no."

"Mhm." Arthur decided to stop teasing him, not wanting to push it too much. Otherwise, America _might_ actually spill the beans to him and he just simply couldn't have that. Arthur looked around, impatiently.

"We need to get down from here." he said, thoughtfully. Amer- Alfred turned to him, puzzled.

"Aren't you panic-"

"I'm good at hiding it... Come on Am-igo, America's not making any sign of showing up anytime soon, so best course of action is to figure out how to get down."

"But..."

"I don't want to sit up here all day. Besides, Electron won't hurt us, until America shows up, right?"

"Right?"

"So... We need a way down..."

Alfred nodded in agreement, and paused to think. While he did this, Arthur focused his attention on Electron. The super appeared after the Magician's disappearance, so Arthur didn't know that much about him. From what Arthur could tell, Electron was very prideful and short-tempered, which often got in his way.

These two flaws could be very useful to him.

America wracked his brain around, but came up with no solution. Of course the git wouldn't, he had, as an old friend of his would put it, garbage for brains.

"Alfred, be quiet for me quickly." Arthur said, hushing him. The American nodded, confused and curious about what Arthur was about to do.

"America!" Electron yelled out again, now getting angry. He wasn't happy that America hadn't shown up yet. If his enemy didn't appear soon, this situation would get awkward, very quickly.

"Hey, Electron!" Someone yelled out. Electron turned around, hoping it to be America. Instead, he saw one of the roller coaster riders speaking to him.

"What is it, human scum?" He asked, disdainfully. The man (with abnormally large eyebrows), continued speaking.

"I see America hasn't turned up yet!" The villain didn't respond at first, processing the man's voice. It sounded British... English specifically? Electron had never been very good at recognising accents.

Then Electron realised what Arthur had said.

"Where are you going with this?" The villain demanded. Arthur scowled, but resisted crossing his arms. Why if that wanker knew who he was talking with...

Well, currently, it wouldn't make a difference, but it _would_ in a few weeks time!

"I think you're not being impressive enough!"

"... _What_?"

"Well, _anyone_ can cause a blackout at a fair!" Arthur replied shrugging. "These things blackout nearly every other hour!"

"Artie, what're you doin'? Get down here; he'll hurt you!" America hissed, but Arthur whacked him behind his head, in a "shut up" kind of fashion.

"Are you saying I'm not impressive?" Electron demanded, angry that this insolent norm would tell him he was dull.

"Well, I don't mean to insult. But you should try being more elaborate with your appearance. More attention grabbing."

"I'm losing my patience."

"Dude, why are you advising him on his performance?" Alfred asked, completely confused. Wasn't Artie on his side? Arthur ignored Alfred again, whacking him behind his head.

"Why don't you turn the electricity _on_ again?" The Brit asked Electron. "Not even Red Blitz can do that! Maybe _that_ will get America's attention?"

Electron stared at Arthur blankly for a moment, before he snapped out of his confused thoughts.

"I see what you're trying to do! But reverse psychology isn't going to work in this situation, _kid_." Electron sneered, his eyes flaring.

Arthur scowled. He was only five years younger than this guy, how come _he_ got called "kid"? Besides, he'd been a villain for much longer than this amateur, if _anyone_ was the kid, it was _E__lectron._

"But... Since America's not turned up, I might as well have _some_ fun, I suppose."

Arthur rolled his eyes and looked off, into the distance, ignoring the super villain, who was making his way to the riders.

"Artie, you shoulda shut up~" Alfred hissed into Arthur's ears, but, yet again, he was ignored by the Brit.

"Tsk. Shoulda known." Arthur muttered, making the other villain hesitate.

"... Known?"

"Oh, no, it's nothing."

"No, _what_?"

"No really! It's nothing!"

"Artie..."

"Tell me now, _little man_." Electron snapped, now standing next to Arthur, his electrified eyes glaring at the Brit. The gaze was still no match to Arthur's own glare.

"Well, you _obviously_ don't want to reactivate the Summer Fair, because you're not _capable_ of doing it. Shoulda known, what with a second-rate villain like you." Electron's eyes narrowed.

The other riders gasped and Alfred placed a protective hand on Arthur's shoulder, should worse come to worse.

Arthur dimly noted that other supers were standing by. Allure was already all charged up, in case he had to make a split-second teleportation, to save Arthur's life.

But that never happened. Instead of Electron attacking Arthur, as everyone had expected, he distanced himself. He touched the groundworks of the roller coaster and reactivated the whole fair.

The Brit's stomach lurched again, finding himself once again the victim of the ride. He could head Electron screaming out shouts of joy at the ability to reactivate the fair(since he had indeed doubted he'd be able to do it), but those shouts soon turned angry, when America _still_ didn't show up.

Barely two minutes later, Arthur got out of the roller coaster as fast as possible, glad to be back on solid ground.

_I'm never going on that thing again._ The Brit thought, as he wandered over to Lovino. Alfred had "disappeared".

"Where are the others?" Arthur asked Lovino. The Italian panicked slightly, but soon became silent and calm again. The Italian brother knew that most of his friends were supesr and knew their secret alter egos. He knew about his brother.

"Those bastards ran away like cowards." Lovino pretended to grumble, frowning deeply. "Don't expect to see them until this fight's over."

Arthur sighed and rubbed his forehead.

"Do you have my goldfish?"

"Si."

"Can I have it?"

Lovino handed Arthur Geraldine the Goldfish. The Brit then looked at the battle between America and Electron. It looked like this could be a while.

"... Tell the others I went home. Er... And I had fun. I guess." Arthur asked awkwardly, hastily leaving.

"See you around Lovino!"

The Italian said nothing, eyeing Veloce, otherwise known as Feliciano, who was hiding inside a rubbish bin, too afraid to move. The Vargas brother sometimes wondered about his younger sibling, whether or not Feli really _was_ cut out for this hero business.

Half the time Veloce was running away, after all. Lovino looked at Arthur's retreating form, then sighed.

"Bastard." He muttered, returning his watchful gaze to his younger brother.

* * *

Arthur hopped across the roof tops, a certain place in mind. After getting some sleep, it was time for a little night spree. Tonight, he needed to find a list of all those involved with the Exibition of the Rose of Britain, and organise a few other things.

Another thing he was doing, was visiting those two kids, the Hiltons.

It had taken a long time for Arthur to realise how he could practice his tricks in front of an audience, without risking anything. Yes, he couldn't practice them as Arthur Kirkland and yes, he couldn't practice them as the Magician.

However, as Capt'n Brows? You betcha.

The Magician retraced his steps from a few days ago, remembering (or rather seeing) where he had once been. Now and then, he would look around, up, down and who knows where else.

He was checking for scouting supers. Even though he had never been seen in his Street Magician costume, there was still a small chance that they would make the connection between the regular Magician and his current self, if ever seen.

Besides that, a costumed man jumping from roof to roof would be quite an attention graber. He really didn't want to have to talk his way out of that kind of situation.

He walked along the pavement, looking around for that allyway. He could have sworn there were less around when he'd last been there.

Once again, he checked for scouting supers, then paled. One super hero was up ahead, but hadn't seen him yet. The Magician quickly ducked into the nearest allyway, getting down to his knees, his back pressed against the wall. His hands slipped down to the gun around his waist. He wasn't used to having extra weight there, so he thought tonight would be good time to get used to it.

He sat there, watching patiently. If that super came too close, he'd simply use the stun gun and hope whoever was coming, wasn't looking in his direction.

The super was coming closer.

He was coming slowly.

Arthur knew that meant he was checking each of the allyways and since the Magician hadn't exactly picked a good place to hide...

The Magician drew out his gun slowly, quietly, loading it. He had to wait for the right moment.

The right...

Moment...

_Now._

Arthur didn't jump out from his hiding place, however, his arm did. It touched a chest and before the super had time to react, the Magician pulled the trigger.

The Brit quickly withdrew his arm, unless he wanted it getting squashed.

The super slumped forwards and collapsed onto the ground.

_Veloce?_ Arthur thought, the super lying in front of him, face-first.

The Magician would have to move quickly. Veloce was always in contact with someone, in case the Italian really _did_ find trouble and needed help.

So, pretty soon, someone (probably Germanium) will turn up to come and aid Veloce.

So the Magician needed to find that ally, with the Hilton's bedroom in it, _very_ soon.

Arthur paused and looked around.

Oh.

He was in it.

He smiled to himself and walked up the fire-escape.

What were the chances of using that same ally twice to hide from a super hero? Pretty small, he reckoned.

He ran up and tapped on the children's bedroom window.

The two were tucked in bed, however, Timothy Hilton was still awake. The child looked up and saw "Capt'n Brows", immediately getting excited. The boy looked over to the closed door, then crawled out of his bed and opened the window.

"Capt'n Brows!" The boy greeted, smiling. Arthur resisted the urge to push him away, when Timothy also proceeded to hug him.

"You really did come!" Timothy said, burrying his face in Arthur's chest. Again, Arthur suppressed the need to push the child away.

"Huh? What do you mean?" Arthur then asked, having processed what Timothy had said.

"Mommy and Daddy have left Esther and me-"

"Esther and I."

"Esther and I alone at home. Esther doesn't know though, she's asleep."

"Wait, you two are alone?" Arthur asked, surprised. Timothy nodded.

"But it's OK. They're always back... In the morning... Sometimes." Timothy said, his gaze downcast. That motion nearly tore Arthur's heart strings out, him having experienced similar situations when he was a young lad. The poor kids, neglected and forgotten by their parents!

No child should have to experience what Arthur Igor Kirkland had!

Arthur sighed and motioned for the boy to give him some room. The child didn't hesitate to do this.

The Magician looked over his shoulder and saw lights coming. Wow. Rescue was on its way relatively fast, eh?

He climbed into the children's room and closed the window behind him.

"I actually wanted to do some crime-fighting tonight, but I guess Child Protection is currently more important." Arthur half-joked. He had actually wanted to do some "crime-encouraging", if you will, but he didn't want these neglected children to be here, by themselves.

"Oh no, you don't have to stay because of us!" Timothy whispered back, but "Capt'n Brows" shrugged.

"I have time. And there are plenty of other super hero's around to protect our fair city, right?" He replied, before smiling. "Now, I've come here, because there are some things I need to practice... Magic, to be specific."

"What does specific mean?"

"Um... It doesn't matter. Tell me Timothy... Do you like... Magic?" Arthur asked, before making a deck of cards appear in his hands, from seemingly nowhere.

The child stared with wide eyes, totally amazed.

Arthur had the feeling he wouldn't go home tonight.

* * *

**Ultimate Spiderman TV series? Me likey. And why am I mentioning it? Because it got me out of the Magician's writers block. So yay Spidey.**

**I can't remember what I named Jeanne D'Arc, but I've permanently changed it to Jeanne Ofarcher. I'll correct her name in earlier chapters later, when I next have time to edit.  
**

**"Fear Volts", German pun: Four in German is "Vier", which is more or less pronounced "Fear".  
**

**The reason why I updated early, is because I'm not here at the end of the month to update. I'm celebrating Christmas in France, up in the alps, so no internet connection. :D  
**

**Also, last update of 2012!**

**Merry Christmas! :D (and happy holidays to those who don't celebrate it)! And a happy new year!  
**


	12. Coming Back Soon

Arthur yawned and rubbed his eyes tiredly. Damn his insomnia, stopping him from getting a good night's sleep. And he'd been off alcohol for weeks now, so...!

Oh right. Friday night. He'd spent it getting drunk.

At least he'd slept well that night.

Arthur opened his eyes and looked around. Where was he?

Oh right. The Hiltons. Timothy and Esther. He didn't go home last night. He stayed with them to look after them. Which, in retrospect, was pointless, since they had been asleep the whole time. They wouldn't have noticed him slip away.

But, in his defence, Arthur _had_ thought that their parents would return soon, so he concluded that he could wait a while...

Sadly he'd been wrong, what with the parents having obviously decided to do an all-nighter.

Arthur looked around the room, trying to decide what to do. He was sitting on the window ledge he'd entered in. He had also fallen asleep on it. This meant that he probably had aches everywhere.

Damn it.

Arthur sat up, but immediately regretted this decision. He did indeed have aches everywhere, if his back and neck had anything to say about it.

He placed a hand on his sore neck, only to groan again, when his shoulder gave a complaint. He sighed and looked out the window, immediately freezing with horror.

The sun was coming up.

As the Magician, it was fine to move around during the day, however, it was _not_ all right when wearing his Street Magician costume. And right now, the Magician wasn't supposed to be seen nor heard of until he did that Rose of Britain thing.

Arthur got to his feet, groaning slightly. Luckily (or unluckily), only his back and neck ached.

He'd still need to have a shower when he got home. Maybe some muscle relaxants would help too.

Arthur looked at Timothy and Esther, who were sleeping. He smiled. They seemed happy enough. Esther had woken up while the Brit was practising his magic tricks on Timothy. She had then demanded to see some magic tricks too.

Arthur checked their alarm clock.

It was, luckily, still very early morning. Four fifty-three. Most people were still in bed at this time of day. If Arthur wanted to get home unnoticed, he'd have to leave now.

He looked at one of his possible escape routes, the window, and frowned. No way was he crawling out a window, with his body as stiff as it was.

Maybe he could dare the front door?

He walked over to the two sleeping children and tucked them into bed again, kissing each on their foreheads. He then quietly left their bedroom and entered the hall.

He looked left and right.

Silence.

There were no signs that someone had come back last night...

Then again, it was four-fifty something, he could leave those two kids by themselves...

Still...

Maybe he should make them some breakfast?

No! He was the Magician, a bloody super villain, for fuck's sake!

Bad guy's don't stop by random children's homes to make them _breakfast_. What was he thinking? He yawned tiredly again and walked to the front door, quietly.

He only visited the two kids to practice his tricks. He had needed someone practice with and he couldn't do this as Arthur Kirkland or as the Magician. He could only do this as Capt'n Brows.

... But Capt'n Brows was a hero, unlike the Magician (and Kirkland).

So maybe he could make some...?

No.

Arthur needed to get home before the morning rush hour started.

Besides, maybe their parents _were_ home by now? After all, he hadn't really checked to see if their parents were back.

He reached for the door handle, only to find it locked.

"Of course..." he muttered. _Of course their bloody parents had time to lock the bloody door before leaving their bloody flat, leaving their godforsaken bloody kids abandoned and bloody fucking neglected and of COURSE they had time to lock the bloody FUCKING DOOR._ he thought to himself, frustrated. He didn't have time for this.

He sighed and fumbled around in his coat pockets, pulling out his pick-set.

Yes. He carried a pick-set around with him. Why in all the world not? He was, after all, a villain that needed to use his resourcefulness and his brains to get into locked areas. He couldn't just blow up the building like so many other bad guys.

He let his Sight wander over the keyhole, to see what kind of lock it was and which tools he'd need. He could have easily done this task without the Sight, but he could get things done quicker if he let the Sight just tell him immediately.

He picked out the correct tools and set to work. Yes, he could simply go around and look for the key, but that would require him looking around and_ making noise_. It wasn't something he really wanted to risk.

He paused in his work.

He was an idiot. He had the Sight. All he had to do was look around the apartment and he'd know where the keys were.

...

Well, he was lock picking the door now, so that was that. He might as well finish what he'd started.

After he'd unlocked the door, Arthur left the home and locked the door behind him.

He hoped the parents were stupid. They'd probably not notice that their lock had been picked then.

He walked over to the lift and pressed the down button.

Why _not_ use the lift? He couldn't be bothered to run down the stairs this early in the morning and just because he was awake didn't mean that he wasn't tired.

Oh, what he'd do for a cuppa right now. At times like this, Arthur was willing to do _anything_ for a cup of tea.

The lift came and the heavy metal doors slid open. Arthur entered and selected the level he wanted to get off at.

While going downwards, Arthur contemplated how he was going to get home.

Let's see. Maybe he could get a taxi home? Just take off the mask, gloves and hat, button up the coat and voila, you have Arthur Kirkland!...

... In very suspicious dress.

Arthur sighed and rubbed his forehead. He had a tension headache. This sucked for him.

The lift reached the bottom, Arthur got out. No one was around. He left the building, but saw a car coming. He quickly ducked for cover. No passer-by was allowed to see him.

The car drove on, not seeing the Magician at all. Arthur looked around.

Despite still not knowing how to get home, he knew one thing for sure. He was _not_ going to walk or run home. He was simply too tired.

Arthur walked up to a bike. It was quite flashy and new, with a very heavy lock.

Arthur shrugged.

_This'll teach them not to buy something as ridiculous as this._ he thought, as he started getting the lock off. He picked it easily. Years of practice made this kind of thing simple for him.

Besides, Arthur had learnt this kind of stuff from the best.

Er...

Arthur threw the lock onto the street and paused. He wouldn't call the guy he learnt it from "the best". He was actually a total jerk, though that was mostly because he didn't like Arthur, and visa versa.

Then again, that git started hating him _way_ before the two met. And hey, Arthur couldn't help it if Lizzy preferred _his_ company over that _jerks_ one.

Arthur got on the bike and cycled home.

* * *

A few people glimpsed him, but he hoped they'd shrug it off.

Arthur lay on his sofa, with the super news channel on and a nice cup of tea on the table.

He had tried to get some sleep, but he simply couldn't. So he decided to do absolutely nothing.

Besides, his headache rendered him practically useless, since he was unwilling to work in this state. The only thing he was willing to do was listen to those stupid newscasters blab about something ridiculously stupid and watch his pet goldfish swim inside the bowl excitedly.

He would have preferred a rabbit or something, but he couldn't complain.

If he remembered correctly, no super villain had ever had a single goldfish as a pet before...

Time for something new, he supposed...

There were some things he still had to do, but he decided to do a little procrastination. The suit was practically finished now. He had enough information to make a first sketch of his master plan.

He sighed.

Tonight, he'd need to go out and find something to write about. He was not looking forward to it. He was now a journalist. His pseudonym was "Watchful Eye".

He had a lot of work cut out for him.

Arthur looked up at his ceiling bored. He supposed he could go and chat with someone, maybe down by the Café, the Vargas twins... No... He really didn't want to socialise right now. And besides, the Café was closed on Sundays.

Arthur closed his eyes and listened to Sam and Sal witter on in the background.

* * *

"... So, that's what happened yesterday evening, eh?" Arthur asked, folding his arms.

Despite all odds, he had some how ended up socializing with someone after all.

He had spent the entire afternoon snooping around the city for a story (and spreading more desire for the comeback of a "True" Super villain). After he finally found one (Critique towards Veloce, aka Feliciano Vargas), Arthur settled down in a nearby park. It wasn't near to his home, but he didn't mind.

He then spotted Kiku, who was walking through the park too. The two, at meeting, started chatting to each other. Arthur invited Kiku to sit down on the bench next to him and despite some awkwardness on Kiku's part, the Japanese man eventually did.

The two then carried on chatting, until Arthur asked where in the world everyone had gone last evening. The Brit did this mostly to see Kiku's reaction, seeing as the two were _technically_ enemies, even if so in secret and... Uh, even if the other wasn't actually aware of this...

After some stuttering and Arthur muttering "... You know, you remind me of somebody...", Kiku eventually managed to say something about certain people freaking out and others immediately giving chase to catch up with those freaking out and forgetting about Arthur and by the time they all calmed down, it was late, so they didn't want to bother him and tried calling him in the morning, but no reply, etc.

This led back to Arthur's question "... So, that's what happened yesterday evening, eh?"

Kiku nodded.

"Hai. Although, that leads me to wonder why you didn't respond to any of our messages?"

Kiku expected Arthur to freak out when he asked the question, but to his surprise, Arthur was completely passive.

"... Oh. I ignore most phone messages... Uh... It's a habit..."

"... How do you make it a habit not to respond to phone messages?"

"Er, that's something I'd rather not talk about." Arthur replied. Naturally, the habit of ignoring phone messages developed from ignoring his father, who had often tried to reach his oldest son over the phone.

Arthur suspected that Peter may have been part of some ploy to get Arthur and his father back on speaking terms, seeing as Peter had often mentioned their father and asked why Arthur was ignoring him, but the Brit had never looked into this.

This was due to him being so used to ignoring the oldest Kirkland member that he didn't even show interest when Peter mentioned him.

"I see." Kiku said after a while, nodding understandingly. Arthur nodded and the two became silent. After a while, Arthur couldn't bear it anymore and started talking to Kiku again, resuming their rather comfortable conversation. They soon came across the topic of tea. Once there, the two got _very_ enthusiastic and soon, they had both agreed to meet up at a Japanese Tea House that Arthur had never been to before.

When Arthur went home that evening and started writing his article, he paused for a moment.

_Oh dear. I think I have a friend._

* * *

And after that... Arthur was a little more willing to be... well... somewhat friendlier towards the super heroes. It wasn't like they were going to walk out of his life any time soon, so Arthur would just have to ignore that he would be fighting against them in less than a month.

Not that he was friends with the whole group... He still couldn't stand the Alfred or the Bad Touch Trio (actually, Antonio was OK... sort of...). And Mattie was so shy...

Also, Arthur could never feel comfortable in Ludwig's presence... He was so... Tall...

He did, admittedly, spend a little bit of time with the twins now and then, although if asked, Arthur would deny it completely, and if prodded further, would deny this having anything to do with a shared past.

Not that anyone knew Arthur had had any past relation with them. The two _had_ mentioned his father by first name before though... Not directly to him, mind. It was just something Arthur had heard from when Alfred was on the phone to his mother.

Arthur sometimes visited the Whisperer too, although this was more to check if Arthur had any gaps in his information. He recently learnt that he was not the only super villain with an eye on the Rose of Britain. Because of the way that Super Villains were grouped at present, only two super villains were allowed to try to seize the Rose of Britain, namely one member from the Dragons and one from the Frozen Stars.

This, of course, gave the Magician a chance to make his performance even more impressive than previous, even if he _did _have to change his plans. A lot.

Arthur sighed, staring at his finished article on the screen. People had really taken to Watchful Eye. They liked reading his articles and they loved his "mysteriousness" ("who really _i__s_ this admirer of super heroes?" Sometimes Arthur liked to imagine how they'd react if they knew who was writing those articles...)

Watchful Eye was extremely popular, even though the articles had only began a few weeks ago. Arthur might be able to set his secondary plan in motion earlier than he thought. He smiled. The benefit of "befriending" the good guys meant that he could watch their spirits break in front of his very own eyes.

He read the article through again, then sent it off to Edelstein. He leaned back in his seat and looked up at the ceiling.

He was ready to become the Magician again. There were only a few precious weeks left before the Rose of Britain event.

Due to his success as Watchful Eye, he had been invited as a Journalist of New Heta Papers to come and be part of the event. This was both useful and problematic.

Useful, because Arthur no longer had to apply as a waiter for this event and risk being recognised by anyone he knew (not only were Hédevary and Edelstein attending this event, but the Frog was the one _arranging_ it!), but risky, due to Arthur having to figure out how he'd leave early, without it being suspicious.

Arthur sat properly in his chair again.

He could figure that out later.

Arthur grinned.

He was very happy.

And why wouldn't he be?

After all, the Magician was back in town.

* * *

**Anonymous reviewer Timothy... I only now realised that your name coincides with Timothy Hiltons. :D Is this coincidence, or...?**

**(I know I've written Hungary's name incorrectly...)**

**I AM SO SORRY. For a missed update, a delayed update and to top it all off, an extremely short chapter. :( I'm just not getting anywhere, so I've decided to summarise everything that was going to happen before the Comeback. I think you will like next the chapter though, if this is any comfort...**


	13. Other Balls on the Playing Field

_"So uh... You get invited to these things a lot?" Arthur asked, avoiding eye contact with Lizzy. She didn't reply, instead sweeping her gaze across the ballroom, her nose shrivelling in disgust._**  
**

_"... Yes." she said after a while, taking a sip from her children's champagne (after all, she was not quite twenty-one yet). She sighed and ran a hand through her hair._

_For the first time since Arthur had met her, her hair wasn't its usual fiery red colour, rebellious or absurdly curly._

_Tonight, for the first time, it was styled and almost boringly straight. All life seemed to have been sucked out of it.  
_

_Arthur hated that. He preferred it wild and uncontrollable. It made Lizzy look more alive and exciting. Upper-class snob simply didn't suit her. She looked so different and so _wrong._ He never thought a day would come when he'd take one look at her and think_ "Wow. Lizzy looks horrible.".

_Yet here they were, at some business party or something (Arthur really had no idea what he was currently attending), dressed in formal wear with children's champagne in their hands._

_Arthur had been forced to come by his father, who was the security chief of the Reliables Corporation, NYC. The teen had actually come nothing short of screaming and kicking, but was now glad that he _had _been forced to c__ome._

_Lizzy... Of all people, _Lizzy _was here. The girl Arthur admired the most._

_"I suppose I owe you an explanation..." Lizzy said after a while, finishing her drink and placing it on a random waiter's tray. Arthur stood up straight. He had been waiting for this all evening._

_Arthur knew why _he_ was there. But why in all the world was _Lizzy_ here?_

_"Come with me." she said. Arthur followed her to the roof. It was a clear night outside. There was a full moon. Too bad he couldn't see very many stars, what with them being in the centre of New York City. Then again, it wouldn't have mattered if they were in New York or not. Today was the fourth of July, after all. It was two hours before midnight._

_The night was beautiful._

_Lizzy cleared her throat.  
_

_"You know when we first met, right?" she asked, turning to Arthur. He nodded, remembering the event._

* * *

_Arthur was nine years old when he first met Lizzy.  
_

_It had been a week since his to-be stepmother had died. Arthur was sitting in a corner in an alleyway, all alone. He was crying._

_It was _his _fault his dad's fiancé had died. If Arthur hadn't been inside the library when that super bad guy had attacked, then everything would have been OK._

_But everything was not OK._

_Dad's fiancé... Mary... was dead._

_Arthur choked and buried his face in his hands. Of course, of course, of COURSE._

_Of COURSE Arthur had to be a friendless outsider that could only make friends with books! Of COURSE he had to go to the library every week to always have more stories to read! Of COURSE he had to go to the library last week! Of COURSE he had to be there when that super bad guy attacked! Of COURSE Mary had to sacrifice her LIFE so that ARTHUR could live!_

_It was all so downright STUPID. If Arthur had been ill that horrid day last week, Mary would still be alive. __If Arthur had bothered making some friends, maybe he wouldn't have had such a large interest in books and Mary would still be alive. _

_If Arthur had never EXISTED Mary would still be alive._

_But he did exist. And she was dead. Because of him.  
_

_Arthur cried. His dad would be so much happier without him. Arthur breathed in deeply. He sniffed. His nose was runny.  
_

_Why had Mary sacrificed her life for him? That was something he still couldn't understand. Arthur had so obviously hated her, _why _did she give up her life like that? She wasn't even a super good guy! Hadn't she hated him?_

_... It was all his fault..._

_While Arthur sat, curled in his corner, he failed to notice someone enter the alleyway from above. However, the child didn't fail to notice this someone hovering over him. He looked up and his eyes widened.  
_

_Standing in front of him was a super good guy, the most famous one of New York. Well no, Spider-man was the most famous one, but he didn't actually exist..._

_In front of him stood the most famous, real super good guy! His name was Final Tier._

_There was a moment of awkward silence. Arthur, back then, wasn't aware that super heroes only ever ducked into alleyways to change into their civilian clothing. He looked up in awe. He sniffled._

_Arthur wasn't quite sure what he had been expecting in that moment. A hug? Comfort? To have his life changed? To be told Mary wasn't really dead? To be..._

_... happier?  
_

_In the end, it didn't matter what he had been expecting. He was disappointed either way, since instead of doing anything to cheer the crying child up, Final Tier turned around and left._

_Arthur stared after him, shocked._

_But... why? That had been a super good guy!_

_... Why...?_

_... Maybe it was because the super good guy could tell that Arthur was a horrible, horrible person? Or... Or maybe..._

_Maybe super good guys don't... care?  
_

_Arthur soon returned to crying._

_This time he didn't notice a figure looming over him, until they grabbed his wrists. Arthur jolted and immediately struggled out of the grip, kicking viciously._

_"Woah! Hey there li'l guy, no need to ge' all feisty!"_

_Arthur stopped fighting and looked up. He saw a girl, one of those big girls, looking down at him. Red hair, freckles and scary-looking. She didn't look scary because of any scary features, but rather... Well, her hair was so wild! And she was so tall!_

_"Now, what's you crying about?" she asked. Arthur sniffled._

* * *

_"Yeah, I remember when we first met." Arthur muttered._

_"... Well, you know when we were introducing each other?"_

_"And you stopped me from revealing my whole name to you?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"Because it's dangerous?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"There wasn't much point in that, was there?" Arthur teased, smiling a little. Earlier that evening, Lizzy had learnt that Arthur was Mr Kirkland's son.  
_

_"... I suppose. But that wasn't the only reason. If you knew my full name, you'd know I'm... Not from a normal family or home."  
_

_"I think I know that now anyway."_

_"Quit it with the smart remarks Arts." Lizzy snapped._

_Arts. It's what she called Arthur when he was treading on thin ice. Arthur shut up._

_"... Anyway, my name is Elizabeth Dare-Tudor. My ma married this guy called Robin Tudor more or less eight years ago. Ma wouldn't stop laughing about how I had suddenly gotten a historical name."_

_"... Wait...Tudors?"_

_"Not Tudors, as in royal family which used to rule England, but Tudor, as in a shareholder of the Reliables. Ma had affairs with him since before I was born and when Pa finally caught on, well, she ran off and married him. Can't stand him. Or ma, sometimes. Which is why I used to run away from home. Not very long, but long enough to feel untroubled. Used to visit Pa; if I got away long enough..."  
_

_"So you're a Tudor? Wait... That's... Uh... Wow, just... Wow..."_

_"I suppose that explains a lot about me, doesn't it?"_

_"... It does." Arthur replied, still stunned. It explained why Lizzy got so furious when she learnt that Arthur was skipping school and was getting bad marks. It explained why Lizzy had an awkward posh accent and a, now that he thought about it, fake-sounding "street" accent. It explained how Lizzy's trip to Australia got financed...  
_

_"... So? How do you feel about all this? Arthur?"_

_"Uh... I don't know... First there's the whole thing with dad and then-"_

_"What about your dad?"_

_"... I'd rather not talk about it. But uh... Why are you part of the Pirates... I mean how...?"_

_"I got involved by chance. They were robbing some store and I helped them get away. Eventually I got tied in, joined and worked my way up. Never told them who I am, course. And the reason why I'm part of them... Easy. I told you, I hate ma and Robin. I hate everything they are and stand for. I suppose you could say I'm a rebellious brat, but I like to believe I've outgrown that all. Now I just generally hate the rich and powerful, as clichéd as that is. You... You can understand that, right?" _

_"I understand completely." Arthur replied, thinking about supers. Admittedly, his hate was probably nothing in comparison to Lizzy's and he really only disliked them, but to an extent, he could understand. And he wasn't really all that keen on rich or powerful guys anyway._

* * *

"Arthur?"

"Hm, wha...?" Arthur asked, blinking a few times.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to jump you. You kind of zoned out on me though!" Elizaveta said, smiling. Arthur rubbed his eyes. Right. He was at that whole celebration-thingy at the art gallery for the Rose of Britain. Got it.

"I didn't mean to. I'm just not feeling all that well. I think I've caught something."

"Well if you have, stay away from me! I can't afford to get ill now."

"How come?"

"Oh, just rumours that have sprung up here and there."

"Really?"

"Well, don't tell anyone, but I reckon the Magician is coming back. And I'm not talking about that idiot in a prom suit, but the Magician that had the whole city in the palm of his hands for two years running!"

"I thought it was three."

"Two, three years, what's the difference? Anyway... I reckon the one we've been seeing around was an imposter."

"How come?"

"While nobody reported it, you cannot deny the fact that somebody was murdered by the Magician a couple days ago. It looks so awful, so much blood... The body was missing, there was a trail for a while, until you hit the lake... And then, of course, the classic Magician symbol left right next to the murder scene... The figurative fake Magician never used that symbol, which supports my assumption that the Magician we've seen in the last three years is actually an imposter! Though, it does make one wonder what happened to the real Magician in the last three years. Any why in all the world someone decided to impersonate him."

"Huh. That's quite a lot of assumptions." Arthur commented. Elizaveta shrugged.

"I may be paid as a photographer, but I occasionally write some of my own articles. And if the Magician returns, well, that's something that has _got_ to be covered!"

"Huh. Shouldn't you leave the coverage to Watchful Eyes?"

"No. He covers what the good guys do. I cover what the bad guys do. It balances itself out that way."

"Oh. I wasn't aware of that."

"Elizaveta! Come here, I wish to introduce you to somebody!" Roderich suddenly called out, waving the photographer over.

"I've got to go, catch you later!" she said, smiling at Arthur and walking away. Arthur nodded and then took a sip from his orange juice. He was staying well away from the alcohol. He had to perform soon and he couldn't afford to do it while under the influence of that particular drink.

Arthur checked his watch. Speaking of soon, he should leave. He wasn't the only guy with his eyes set on the Rose of Britain.

"Hello, Mr. Kirkland was it?"

Arthur jumped and dropped his glass. He looked behind himself and saw Karpusi, smiling.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Arthur practically shrieked.

"What do you mean? I do not believe we have ever met?" the man replied. "Champagne?"

Arthur calmed down, a hand on his erratic heart that still wasn't aware that nothing scary had actually happened. No one had heard Arthur. Good. Karpusi was pretending they had never met before. Accurate, seeing as it wouldn't make sense for a multi-billionaire and some guy "off the streets" to know each other.

He glared at Karpusi.

"No thank you. Alcohol has a negative effect on me." he stated. A waitress scurried over to clean up Arthur's mess. He smiled at her apologetically. She blushed. Then she looked at Karpusi and turned bright red. She quickly finished the job and walked off.

"So, how did someone like you get to a place like this?" Karpusi asked calmly.

"I work for New Heta Papers and they like to promote class-equality, so they often invite random members of the staff to these kind of stuff. I got lucky. Or unlucky, considering how awkward it is here."

"Not to mention dangerous. I've heard a lot of nasty men plan on taking the Rose of Britain tonight." Arthur raised an eyebrow. Karpusi continued. "I'm sure this evening won't remain... Awkward, as you put it."

"... Well, I don't think I'll be around long enough to see the turn. I'm not feeling so well." Arthur replied. "In fact... Oh goodness. Please excuse me, I'm just..."

He didn't have time to talk to Karpusi. Snow Princess would be around soon and he _had_ to take the Rose of Britain before she got her hands on it. He ran off to the toilets. Someone was in there. Arthur quickly opened a stall, slamming the door shut behind himself.

He pulled out his phone (God bless smart-phones!) and a bag containing "artificial" sick. He played off the already selected soundtrack and emptied the contents of the bag into the toilet.

"Ugh..." he muttered after the recording ended.

The good old I'm-really-sick-look-at-the-toilet trick was priceless. The recording was from when he really was sick a decade ago and the fake stuff...

Arthur had never been a good cook, however he was very good at creating things that could look like anything from hearts, guts and intestines to sick. He considered it a talent not many possessed (and certainly didn't want to possess at that!)

"Dude, you OK?" the man in the toilet asked. He opened the stall, so he could see if Arthur was OK. The Brit was getting up on "shaky" legs and had just finished cleaning his mouth. The man's nose scrunched up and visibly paled. Obviously he wasn't somebody that could tolerate the site of someone sick.

"I think I should go home..." Arthur muttered. The other guy stared.

"Ew! Uh... I'll go and get someone to clean this mess up. You take the first taxi home!" he said and quickly left. Arthur flushed the toilet and washed his hands.

Good. Now Kirkland had a good reason to leave this place early.

After some commotion, Roderich organised a taxi to take Arthur home. Arthur was given back his coat and his trusty satchel. He was practically pushed into the taxi. He watched as the distance between the Art Gallery and himself grew. Arthur looked at the driver. The driver looked back. Roderich hadn't paid the taxi driver.

"Uh... Could you drop me off here? I don't have enough money to pay you." Arthur spoke up, watching as the cost of his taxi trip grow bigger.

"Sure." the man replied and pulled over. Arthur got out and gave the guy his money. Roderich had also avoided telling the guy that the reason Arthur had had to go home was because he had been sick. Admittedly that _was_ something you shouldn't tell a taxi driver. They wouldn't want you being sick all over their taxi and would probably refuse to drive you anywhere.

Arthur sighed and walked a little, before heading towards a dark alleyway. He opened his satchel and put his mask on.

It really was amazing how much you could fit inside a satchel. His whole suit had room in it and the best part? _Completely crinkle-free. _He put the suit, then put on the black trench coat he had bought for this occasion. After all, white was a very noticeable colour, especially after dark and this part of the mission required Arthur staying as unnoticeable as possible (what he'd give to have Inviso's/Mattie's powers right now).

He placed his Satchel into a crack in the wall, hidden by a bush. The thing should still be there when Arthur came back for it. He sure hoped it would be. Well, it didn't matter. He only needed to get some of the bag back to know who had taken it and then, voilà, he'd have _everything_ back.

Arthur walked down the street, back to the Art Gallery. Time to get the Rose of Britain.

* * *

The sun rose. Birds were singing. Arthur was lying in his bed, still half-dressed from last night and smiling to himself.

He was, simply put, very happy. On the night table next to him lay the Rose of Britain. He wasn't quite sure what to do with it yet, but he supposed he could figure out the details later.

It had all been so simple. Steal the real Rose of Britain before anyone else got the chance and place an obviously fake one in its place. It had been so easy.

The horror on everyone's faces when they realised what was happening. OK, some _freaks_ had started smiling (excluding himself, naturally), but never mind. Amongst the freaks were Karpusi and Elizaveta. What was _wrong_ with that woman? She kind of scared him...

He could understand why Karpusi smiled.

Arthur opened his eyes, rubbing them. Last night had felt so _good_. Arthur had had no idea how much he had _missed_ this. The excitement. The danger. The _running._

He stretched.

What would his next move be? What would he do next? Who would he mess with next?

Oh, all these what and who questions could wait for later. Arthur should just enjoy the feeling of chaos under his control.

He lay in bed a little longer until he got bored and got up.

He walked downstairs and entered the living room. He turned the TV on and then walked off to make some tea.

"..._ The rose of Britain was stolen last night..._" he heard the TV drone. Arthur finished making his tea and walked back to the living room. Ah, he was just in time to watch... well, himself.

Sam and Sal were sitting in their usual expensive armchairs with their usual expensive coffees on the table, but did not look anywhere near as happy or peppy as they usually did. This already pleased the Brit.

They looked so miserable and uncomfortable and a bit like someone that had been told that a loved one had been murdered (... not that Arthur knew what _that_ looked like!)

"_... Here is some amateur footage, shot before the camera crew could arrive."_ Sam finished. Arthur sat back in excitement. He really loved watching his work.

The footage started playing.

It was focused on the stage on the other side of the Art Gallery. It had been used by the musicians to play their instruments, but now, in the film, it was being used as a platform by an enraged Snow Princess.

"_Where is it!_" she screamed. The response was screaming, panicking and running around. This did not calm the Snow Princess down in the least. _"I said. Where. Is. IT?" _she yelled again, her voice becoming shrill. As a warning, she turned into her diamond form (despite what the name would suggest, she did not have any snow-based powers) and destroyed the drum kit that had been abandoned on stage.

The audience froze in their panic. They were also confused. The Snow Princess rolled her eyes, angry and frustrated. She knew why they were confused. They had no idea what she was demanding from them.

"_Where is the Rose of Britain!? Where is it!_"

At this point another villain broke into the Art Gallery, through the window. Black Ninja. It was almost ironic that they still called him that, considering that he no longer used very... subtle methods.

"_Yes. Do tell where it is._" he demanded, although he, unlike the villainess, seemed calm and didn't raise his voice. In all honesty, at this point the Magician would have popped into the party, but he had noticed Francis trying to change into Allure. And since a super hero arriving too early to this party would ruin everything, the Magician quickly had to go and deal with this problem.

Quite frankly, Arthur had no idea how he had lived without the Stun Gun. Life was so much easier with it.

The Snow Princess' eyes narrowed.

"..._ What are _you _doing here_...?" she asked coolly. Typical teenager with mood-swings, that was Arthur's only thought on the matter.

"_Same reason you are here._"

"_Aha! So you took it!_"

"_Pardon?"_

_"Well, if _I_ haven't got the Rose of Britain, YOU must have it!"_

_"I thought you might have it..."_ The Black Ninja was confused and knew crashing the party had been a mistake, but... Well, how _couldn't_ he? No one could deny it being fun to crash a party.

"_But if _you_ don't have it and _I_ don't have it and _they_ don't have it... Who has it?_" the Snow Princess asked, now thoroughly confused.

"_I think you will find that _I_ have it._" came from above. The camera swung upwards, to see a figure dressed in white, his face hidden by the darkness surrounding him, sitting comfortably on a ledge near a ceiling window.

"_Who are you?_"

"_Has it really been that long? Three years gone and you already have no idea who I am! Shocking!_" the other mocked. The Black Ninja, unlike everyone else, recognised him. His eyes narrowed.

The man in white jumped down from the ledge, holding a nearby curtain to slow down his fall. He landed on both feet. The audience was even more confused and scared. Well, apart from Elizaveta and Heracles, but they weren't in the picture.

The man in white held up his hands, smiling.

"_I am the Magician. And I think that that ever so precious jewel you're looking for can be found here._"

And there it was. With the flick of his wrist, the Rose of Britain "magically" appeared in his hand. Nobody reacted, nobody knew how to. Those who still remembered the Magician were freaked out. How could the Magician so suddenly be... Back? Worst of all, this one... He wasn't that pathetic excuse for a bad guy that broke into liquor stores. This one was... Well, for starters, he actually lived up to his name and performed some magic tricks (though there were rumours that those tricks were actual magic).

"_Of course, this isn't the end of my performance. Fellow villains are such pitiful creatures nowadays. They're all too focused on the game to realise that there are many other balls on the playing field. Why, some of you failed to realise that dearest Lady Celia was wearing the Spider Amulet! Such an amateur mistake~!"_

Another flick of the hand. The Rose of Britain turned into the Spider Amulet.

"_Or that Mr. Truman was wearing the ever famed Time Turner, a well-loved pocket-watch made nearly two centuries ago!"_

In place of the Spider Amulet, the Magician now had the Time Turner in his hand.

There were some gasps from the audience, as they realised their jewellery was either stolen or replaced by something more or less believable or something utterly ridiculous. How had he done that...?

Arthur, the one sitting on his sofa in his living room, grinned. He had pick-pocketed them earlier in the evening as Arthur Kirkland. He had had to rely on people not noticing. And they hadn't! He loved how men could so easily be fooled. It made his life so _easy_.

Arthur sighed. For Amateur footage, this was a sure downright good recording.

The Magician continued talking.

"_And any minute now, some members of the Dream Team should turn up, so if you'll excuse me..._"

A puff of smoke and the Magician was gone.

Arthur grinned. Too easy. Sometimes he wondered, whether or not it really was so bad that super heroes always arrived late. Certainly not if you were on the flip-side of the coin.

* * *

**The first plot arc is now complete. :D**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter ^.^; I had to rush it a bit because of... writer's block... gr... I'll find a cure to it one day! I tell you!**

**Happy Easter. :3**


	14. Disagreeing Geraldine

Arthur placed his pyjamas under the pillow and straightened the bed sheets. He had just finished tidying his room from last night.

He had come back through his front door with his civilian clothing on. He doubted any neighbours would question him for being out late. It wasn't exactly a secret that the Brit spent nights away, though most pegged this to noisy neighbours and not... drinking...

Having returned to his home, he had put his white suit away with his other one-time-use suits, while putting the Rose of Britain, Time Turner and Spider Amulet amongst his souvenirs from other interesting escapades, most of which involved supers.

Unlike most super villains, Arthur wasn't entirely sure what to do with stolen goods. Keep them? Throw them away? Sell them?

He knew most villains sold their items and gained money that way, however, Arthur had a secret life to keep secret; Kirkland suddenly becoming loaded wasn't exactly inconspicuous.

After Arthur had put his gear away last night, he had taken out any blue-prints, lists or plans to do with that evening, placed them in a bin and lit it. He, of course, kept some notes, but most of them had to be destroyed. He knew that there was a chance someone might discover his tiny little secret, so he always destroyed everything he deemed disposable or unimportant.

Arthur walked back into his kitchen and put the kettle on again. He would probably receive some more calls during the day. Feliciano and Kiku had already called him. All supers involved with Kirkland, knew that he'd been attending the Rose of Britain thing last night. Francis may call him and complain about how Arthur deliberately avoided him, but that would probably end with a "heated" debate on whether or not it was in reality Francis' fault they barely saw each other anyway.

Arthur started cleaning his bin, removing the black smoke stains left from last night. He wasn't sure what the Magician should do next. His more secretive project was still running, but that was a slow-paced plan that would take months before it finally came into fruition. He'd already been at it for two months, after all. He'd have to wait a while longer...

He sighed. He knew there was still a lot of work to be done before he could call himself the most feared villain of New Pond City again. While the populace (including most super villains) would peg him as a guy not to mess with immediately, the Great Dragon and Cold Bite were not going to be so easy to convince. They would challenge him, act as rivals, if not enemies. As if being up against two powerful supers wasn't bad enough, they had a bunch of super-powered henchmen to back them up.

_Ugh, how I hate gangs..._ Arthur thought, reusing his old mug for tea.

So first things first, destroy the gangs. The best way of doing that was by removing their respective leaders. But both were strong men and in a fair fight, the Magician would lose. When dealing with Cold Bite, Arthur could probably rely on his smarts, but with the Great Dragon, that wouldn't be enough.

In an unfair fight it would be even riskier, with the two probably going overboard with cheating.

Arthur stirred his tea.

So, if he wanted to take down the Dragons and the Frozen Stars, he'd have to weaken the gang's loyalty to their respective leaders and pick up a few team mates to take the two down. He paused, thoughtfully.

What were the reasons for the gangs?

Oh yes, Jeanne Ofarcher. The new head of police was responsible for bringing a lot of super villains to justice. Most super villains she caught were given the death sentence, but the luckier ones got lifelong imprisonment and the luckiest had the possibility of actually leaving the prison... eventually.

The sudden realisation that they could get caught and given the death sentence had frightened a lot of super villains into joining gangs for protection. So Arthur would have to deal with her at some point. This problem would preferably be something for his future self to deal with.

The gangs also existed because of that power vacuum he had left when he "disappeared". That unfortunately got filled by two super villains that were gang-oriented.

Well, he was back now, so super villains had an alternative to gangs... However, Arthur couldn't promise them protection... Or could he? He had sabotaged a lot of plans before, for both villains and heroes. Sometimes he'd sabotage them without their knowledge, sometimes with. He supposed he could sabotage Ofarcher, but that would require a lot of time and patience and almost always keeping a tab on her...

The Whisperer refused to give information about non-Supers, which meant that relying on the Whisperer for anything would be pointless.

He sighed and walked into his living room.

All right, Ofarcher really had to be a problem for future self.

A lot of villains were also forced into joining gangs. No doubt, if he continued making appearances, he too would eventually be forced to join a gang...

Black Ninja was an obvious guy to be forced into a gang. He could easily be fished out, with some outside help. First, someone had to make Kiku aware his blood had more metal in it than most. After that, all they had to do was deactivate those nano-bots and Kiku would be a normal guy again, without a self-destruct button.

Oh. He had referred to Shiro Ninja as Kiku again. Arthur groaned and sat down on his sofa, looking at Geraldine's bowl.

"Well? What do you think Gerry?" Arthur asked, looking at his goldfish. Geraldine seemed to look back at him.

"Do you think I'm getting too personal with the supers or not? I'm on first-name basis with them and also refer to them as such in my head! What if I start... You know... Stop hating supers... The whole reason for the Magician would completely _cease_! I... I still hate supers with a burning passion, but what if... I'm wron-"

Arthur stopped himself from finishing that sentence. He knew that if he ever finished that thought...

He couldn't. He wasn't ready to admit something like that, nor was he ever _going_ to be ready. He simply... He had to direct his grief somewhere, and if not hate...?

"No, I won't think like that, you're right, I shouldn't!" he exclaimed, as if Geraldine had told him all this. Geraldine swam around her bowl.

"But this doesn't change the fact that I have in fact befriended... _Them. _What if I find myself unable to be their opponent one day? Or if I drag them down with me? I mean, not that it's bad being a bad guy, it's just an alternate lifestyle... Sort of... But they're _them_ and I'm _me;_ this kind of thing isn't _meant to work_ unless someone _changes_. And hell if it'll be me. And what if they reveal their secret identity to me? Or worse, learn _my_ secret identity? Or even _worse_... Learn _all_ my secrets? Like... Like the Fourth of July... I..."

Arthur silenced and sat down. Geraldine seemed to look at him curiously.

"I don't like thinking about these things." he finally said after a while. "... I have never regretted in my life, nor am I going to start now. I have no regrets. But what if... What if I _do_ start regretting... Was it a bad idea to, even if accidentally so, befriend them? That would be my first regret... You agree, don't you?"

Arthur looked at the goldfish, massaging his forehead. Geraldine swam around her bowl several times, before facing the Brit again. Arthur smiled.

"Oh, so you think it wasn't a bad idea, huh? So you think it was ingenious, huh? So you think I shouldn't regret anything, huh? Well, I suppose not. I should stop over-thinking everything and just go with the flow. Focus on the gangs for now, right?"

Arthur softly touched the bowl with his fingertips and the goldfish swam up to them.

"I see, that's how it is. You're right, I should focus on the Magician. If things get too complicated, focus on one goal. I've been doing that for years now, I have no reason to stop."

Arthur moved his hand along the bowl. The goldfish followed. Arthur looked the fish over, using the Sight.

"Oh, Gerry, what's that? My favourite girl's hungry? Well why didn't you say anything? I'll go get you some food then."

Arthur went and got the goldfish food. He would never admit it, but he really liked having a pet. It gave him something to talk to and also sort of gave him company. He felt less alone and could be completely open to the creature. Well, sometimes he wouldn't be... But... That had absolutely _nothing_ to do with him being unable to admit things to himself!

He came back and fed Geraldine.

"Oh, _now_ you want to know what I was thinking about?" he asked, watching Geraldine swim around her bowl to get her food. He leaned back on the sofa and looked at the ceiling.

"... I figure getting Blackie to join my cause will be easy enough. I don't know much about Blue Hands. Both the Great Dragon and Cold Bite are bastards, so I'm sure a lot of their gang member will gladly rebel if they know someone's got their back... Maybe the Whisperer will help me? No, he's a neutral... Even in a battle to restore order... He wouldn't help. I need more information on Blue Hands though. That's a definite trip to the Whisperer either way. I guess I can also ask him his opinion on... Oi, Gerry, are you even listening?"

Apparently, the goldfish wasn't. She swam quite happily in her bowl, ignoring her owner completely. Arthur didn't mind. It was just a fish after all.

"Such cheek! I feed you, I clean you and this is how you repay me!" Arthur said playfully, tapping the glass gently. Geraldine remained undisturbed. Arthur sighed and got to his feet.

Essentially, the Brit would either end up organising an all-out brawl between the leaders of two huge super-powered gangs and their lower members or have the two officially defeated _and arrested _by Jeanne Ofarcher and/or the Dream Team... Also, how would he get Kiku to realise the reason why Yao was-

Arthur's doorbell rang.

Irritated that his train of thought had been disturbed, he walked over to his door and looked through the peep-hole. It was Francis.

Oh fuck.

Francis had seen Arthur leave last night with "food poisoning". It was too soon for Kirkland to suddenly be better... Arthur looked at himself. Neat, tidy, dressed. Didn't look particularly ill.

Oh, bloody fucking hell.

Arthur quickly ran up the stairs, practically tearing his clothes off and slipping into his pyjamas again. He quickly threw on his dressing gown and dishevelled his hair, rubbing his eyes with a lot of force until they felt weird. He splashed cold water onto his face and didn't dry his hands. He threw a blanket around his shoulders and then ran down the stairs, slipping into his slippers.

He slammed the door open.

"What the fucking hell do you wa- Oh. It's you." Arthur said, "tiredly". He mentally checked himself for bad posture and a hand massaging his supposedly aching stomach. Check on both.

"Bonjour to you too! I see you have woken up with the sun shining and all~!" Francis replied, frowning at Arthur's vulgar language. Then again, Francis could understand the Brit's grouchiness. He probably did feel worse than crap, after all.

"So, do tell why you decided to come by when you're fully aware that _I am sick."_

"I came to see how you doing and if you need help!"

"And you just _happened_ to be in the neighbourhood?" Arthur snapped.

"Don't be daft, I made time to come over!" Francis replied. He gently pushed Arthur aside and entered. "And I brought coke! That should help with your poisoning!"

Arthur blinked in surprise, not used to someone simply inviting themselves into his home. Eventually, he snapped out of it and crossed his arms.

"Frog, I am in no mood to entertain the likes of _you_ today. Can't you go fuck with someone else? And don't you have _work_ today?"

"Non, not until this afternoon." Francis replied, unaffected by Arthur's rude attitude. If you could get used a punk Arthur at high school, you could never go back to being un-used to it. He placed the coke on the kitchen table, frowning as he looked around the room. "Ah, it is good that I came. No coke to be seen anywhere!"

"Were you even listening to me?"

"Désolé rosbif, but I do not like the sound of your voice, so I tune it out." Francis replied offhandedly, looking through the shelves.

"Where do you keep your glasses?" he asked.

"Top cupboard, to the left."

"Merci."

Francis poured some coke into a glass, then looked through some drawers, eventually finding a teaspoon and using it to stir it.

"Don't worry rosbif, I will leave you be when I know you are well looked after. Anyway, do you feel any better from yesterday?"

"No. I just want to curl up and die. You have no idea how unbearable this is. I feel like I have to be sick again, but I've already thrown everything up..." Arthur trailed off. What else did you usually feel when suffering from food poisoning? Fever? Dizziness? He couldn't actually remember, since he hadn't suffered from something like this in years.

"Here, stir this." Francis said, handing Arthur the glass of coke. "Remove as many bubbles as you can, so that it doesn't disturb your stomach too much. It'll help settle it down, oui?"

"... How will drinking coke help?"

"It is an acidic drink. I think that summarises it enough." Francis simply replied. "Do you have any bread? Seeing as you were sick last night... Do you know what caused the food poisoning?"

"... I had chicken for lunch yesterday. I think I must have undercooked it. Or something." Francis looked him over in disbelief. What was so surprising about the Brit _under_-cooking something?

"Hm... Well, this evening you might be well enough to eat something again. Do you have a toaster?"

"Francis, I am perfectly capable of looking after myself." Arthur grumbled, crossing his arms. "All I need is some rest and to remain _undisturbed_."

"Nonsense, if you knew how to take care of yourself, you would have had _those_ monstrosities checked out a long time ago. But seriously, do you have some kind of eyebrow condition or something?" Francis replied, searching for bread in the cupboards, but not finding anything.

Arthur ignored the insult about his eyebrows and lay down on the sofa, realising that someone with food poisoning wouldn't be standing around for such a long time. Luckily, Francis failed to notice that Arthur had been standing for a suspicious amount of time.

"Fine, fine. I shall not bother you any more." Francis said, looking through Arthur's fridge. "Ah, you have no bread."

"Ugh, just go away. I'll buy some later."

"Cher, you are in no state to go shopping. I will go and buy some for you."

"Whatever." Arthur moaned. He looked at Geraldine, who was in turn, looking at the Frenchman.

"... Did I miss anything last night?" Arthur asked, poking the glass of Geraldine's bowl. She turned her attention to her owner and swam up to the fingers. Francis visibly stiffened. This made Arthur want to smile, but he had to pretend he had no idea what was happening at the moment, so he could rub it in their faces tomorrow.

"Nothing worth mentioning..." Francis lied, looking away, at the coffee table opposite the sofa. "Rosbif, you should drink the coke." Francis said, noticing Arthur hadn't touched it. The Brit closed his eyes and curled on the sofa.

"Don't want to drink." he said, slightly childishly. "Stomach hurts."

"Trust me Arthur, this will make you feel better." At this, Arthur looked up at him. The two rarely referred to each other by their first names, usually using insults instead. Francis really and honestly wanted to help him. Sighing, Arthur picked up the glass and drank some.

"Can you go now? Go get bread or something." Arthur replied, closing his eyes as if he wanted to sleep.

"All right cher... Hey, don't you want a pillow or something?"

"No. I'm fine. Just let me rest." Arthur grumbled, using the blanket to cover his head. Francis sighed.

"I will be back soon. Good to know you're all right."

Arthur peeked through his blanket and looked Francis over with the Sight. The Frenchman was avoiding the Super community. He was being blamed for letting the Rose of Britain get stolen, as he had been present the whole evening. He visited Arthur because he really _did_ want to know how he was doing. He also was avoiding talking to some of the Supers.

Francis left the flat, leaving Arthur alone again. The Brit sighed out loud, kicking off the blanket and getting out of his dressing gown. It was far too hot to be dressed like that.

It was going to be lunch in an hour and with "afternoon", Francis probably meant going to work at three. Visiting the Whisperer would probably have to wait until morning.

Arthur stretched himself and walked upstairs. He had a good half hour until Francis returned with bread. That was enough time to quickly write an article for the New Heta Papers.

* * *

Arthur was not amused. As if having to pretend being sick wasn't bad enough, the twins decided to drop by for a visit. More like, Alfred dragged Mattie with him to see how Arthur was doing. He didn't know how it happened, but everyone involved in Kirkland's social life had somehow learnt that Arthur was suffering from food poisoning.

As Mattie and Alfred had both witnessed Arthur's cooking before, they had decided to come over and make dinner for him. Arthur really couldn't understand why though.

At first, the Brit didn't mind, as the two were, much like everyone else, shaken up by what had happened last night, what with the Magician and all, but now Arthur was starting to regret letting them in...

They were watching a horror movie, the name of which the Brit couldn't remember. However, he was fully aware of an extremely clingy Alfred, who had at first been hugging his brother for dear life, until Mattie made an excuse to leave and so, switched over to squeezing Arthur to death.

In the film, the last character screamed in horror, having realised that all her friends had been killed by the monster and that she was the last one left. Then a suspenseful chase followed, as she ran away from the creature. She did so successfully and now found a way to escape the haunted castle. But just as she left the place and thought she was home free, the monster appeared again and killed her. Cue end credits.

Alfred screamed hysterically. Arthur choked, which prompted the American to loosen his grip on him. Still, Alfred continued screaming and started becoming hysterical. Arthur sighed.

"Alfred." he said.

No response.

"Alfred."

Still no response.

"_Alfred._"

"Y-yeah Artie?"

Arthur briefly wondered how the adorable younger brother in his memories had become... This.

Wait. _Artie_?

"I told you, it's _Arthur. _Not Artie or Art or Arts or any other dumb nickname you can think of. It's _A_rthur. And can you please let go of me now."

"O-oh, sorry dude. I was, just um... J-just protecting you from the monster, is all..."

Arthur looked at him confused.

"... Why would I need protec-?"

"HOW'S YOUR STOMACH?" Alfred quickly shouted to distract the Brit. It worked, as Arthur was too stumped to continue bugging the American.

"Uh... It's fine, thank you. I don't feel so sick any more."

"Ha! That's great!" Alfred said, smiling. The American was still shaking slightly. "Just in time to go back to work, huh? What are you working as, again?"

"Freelance for New Heta Papers." Arthur replied, sitting up and pushing Alfred far away from him. "Did you really need to hug me to near-death? I swear, I think I've got some bruises..." Arthur muttered, annoyed. He was pretty sure Alfred had at one point lost control over his super strength. He was quite honestly surprised a rib hadn't broken.

"Oh, heh... Sorry about that..."

Mattie entered the room, having heard the film ended, in his hands a tray of long overdue snacks.

"I'm back with the snacks! Oh! The film ended? Ah, too bad, never mind, eh?" Mattie lied, smiling. Alfred noticed nothing. Arthur did. The Canadian had spent the second half of the film in the kitchen, reading a book, rather than watching a horror film with a hysterical Alfred and being squeezed to death. Sneaky. Clever.

Mattie didn't turn out too bad.

"Don't worry, you didn't miss anything worth mentioning." Arthur replied. Alfred smiled nervously.

"Bro, d'you think we should go home now? I mean, the sun is setting and all..."

"Hm? Afraid of the dark Alfie?" Mattie asked innocently. Alfred shook his head.

"N-nah, but I think we should stop bothering Arthur now, I mean, he's better now, so..."

Arthur contemplated what to do. On one hand, he could say "_Oh, I don't mind you being here._" and thus make Alfred stay until it was dark outside, boosting his irrational fear of ghosts that had already been boosted the the film... But the problem with that, is that the American might refuse to go home.

It had happened before.

Unfortunately.

Arthur decided to side with Alfred, rather than risk having the twins stay overnight at his place.

"I would like to get some work done, so I wouldn't mind you two leaving early." Arthur spoke up, folding his blanket.

Mattie frowned and thought for a moment, before agreeing.

"Well, I suppose. I've got some college work to work on anyway..."

"It was lovely of you to drop by though, it's much appreciated." Arthur said, as he followed the two to the door.

"Any time bro~" Alfred said, smiling. The two put their shoes on and jackets.

The three bid their goodbyes and Arthur was finally left alone at his home again.

"_Finally._" Arthur said out loud, walking back to his living room. "Can you believe it Gerry? A whole day _wasted _by _them_! Now I've been put back a whole day in plotting!"

Geraldine wanted feeding again. Arthur gave her some food pellets and sat down opposite her, head in hands and frowning.

Right. Where had he last left off?

"I think the first thing I need to do is talk to Blackie. But I need to do plan how I'll interact him, I do have to appear like that all-knowing Magician he knows. And I need to confront Blue Hands, learn more about him. What I currently know about him is that he has two sisters and likes sunflowers. That's not much to go by... I'll go visit the Whisperer tomorrow."

Geraldine continued swimming around in her bowl.

"Well, good night then young Lady." Arthur said after a while. He got up and went to his bedroom. He pulled out some paper and placed it on his desk, picking up a pencil. Once it was sharpened, he started plotting.

Killing the Great Dragon and Cold Bite was out of the question, so Jeanne Ofarcher would be an important component, as well as Black Ninja, whose record the _Magician_ was going to clean...

* * *

**fsdflkjalögjlöafdewiorpyxdfn, _86 reviews at Chapter 13? _I love you guys so much. ^.^**

**Not much excitement going on here, just making it clear where the Magician now stands with his enemies, why I added Geraldine to the story and what he's going to do next...**

**And also, it really does help to drink coke if you've been sick (i.e. throwing up). It's acidic, which helps kill bacteria in your stomach. ;)**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**


	15. Not thought through

"No Feliciano, I'm not mad any more. Alfred was right, I had no reason to snap at you guys... Yeah, well, tell him he's a wanker that can sod off too." Arthur said over the phone, walking down the streets.

"Yes, I'm sorry." Arthur replied, sighing deeply. "Look, can we please not talk about this. It's... Well, uh... I already said I'm sorry! What more do you want from me? ... Fine, I'll listen to your side of the story. Yes, I'll try to be nicer in future... No, I really don't blame you... Elizaveta covered the story anyway, it would have made no difference... No! You may not, under any circumstances, tell them what my _job_ is! It's like- like a secret identity! You can't just go around blabbing it! I mean, would _Veloce_ tell everybody... um... _Germanium's_ secret identity, because it would help him out with some social problems? No! ... Well, of course I have no idea if Veloce knows Germanium's secret or not. Probably not, as it could be dangerous for each other and their friends and family."

Arthur flinched. He had accidentally stepped right onto sensitive Super issue.

"N-not that it _doesn't_ come without benefits though... Like, if one of them dies, the other can inform their respective friends and family and uh..."

_Not helping Kirkland..._

"Anyway, yes, I swear on my life, I will try not to... shoveblameoneverybody... I said, in future I will try not to shvblmnvrybdy!... I will not shove blame on everybody! Happy now?"

Arthur sighed. He had had better plans than the one he had executed that morning.

To explain, Arthur had gotten up in the morning with a brilliant idea.

* * *

_Let's go visit the Supers at the Vargas Café!_

_Arthur hadn't had a chance to really rub the Magician's return in their faces yet and hey, if he didn't do that, what was the point in secretly being friends with them?**  
**_

_Not that he had decided to be friends with them. It was just unfortunate chance that dragged him into this madness._

_He looked through the café window._

_The Axis, Twins and Bad Touch Trio were all present. Well, apart from Francis, who was helping Police Chief Ofarcher in her investigation and clean-up._

_Thingamajig- Right, Mattie, noticed him; and as he approached the door, more noticed him._

_He entered the Café._

_Show time._

_"Arthur! Ve~ It's so good to see you! I..." Feliciano started, standing up to welcome him._

_"Don't Arthur-ve me!" Arthur snapped, scowling._

_"... Eh?"_

_"Oh please! Didn't I tell you this would happen?" Arthur snapped. The Supers looked at each other confused. What exactly had they done this time? Why was Arthur so angry?  
_

_"I told you, that the Magician could return to his usual self and everybody laughed it off! Didn't I tell you he was still a threat? Didn't I tell you he was dangerous?!"_

_"Hey, hey, back off Kirkland!" Lovino argued, coming over to support his brother (and the Supers)._

_"No! I won't! Feliciano, it's not that I'm angry with you, it's just... I don't know what's worse! The fact that the Magician has returned to his usual self, as I had warned or that no one TOLD me. You know I coulda... Argh!" Arthur folded his arms. Right. He couldn't use his job to explain his "anger" away, as he was supposed to be an anonymous writer for the New Heta Papers._

_Ah, maybe this hadn't been such a good idea. He hadn't even bothered thinking it completely through!_

_Then again, Feliciano and Lovino knew exactly who he was and what he worked as at New Heta Papers. The two flinched and shared a look. Not a complete fail then... Though, the two _weren't_ who he had been targeting..._

_"You were even at my home yesterday, you could have told me then!" Arthur continued, slowly feeling himself lose his__ reasons to be angry._

_"... Why does it matter?" Alfred asked, jumping in to support the poor Italians. He seemed quite peeved that Arthur was yelling at the guy for no apparent reason. Well, for no _good_ reason anyway. Also, Alfred was still very, very sore about the Magician's return. Any mention of it immediately threw his mood off-balance. And any chance to vent... He'd accept._

_"It's because- Because! Oh, you know what?" Arthur then scowled darkly. "It doesn't matter. And it CERTAINLY doesn't concern you."_

_"You just barged into the café and started snapping at Feli, and as a _friend_ I think this most certainly _does_ concern me."_

_Arthur paused. Ah. Problem._

_As the Brit wasn't _really _angry... He wasn't going to be able to go into a proper, unstoppable rant. And, well... What was Arthur's comeback for _this_? He also felt a_ _little bad about Feliciano being the receiving end of his fake-anger... The Italian really _had_ done nothing wrong, after all. Heck, he had probably been one of the few people to ever bother befriending him!_

_... How could he have treated Feliciano that way?_

_"O-oh really?" Arthur asked, trying not to sound regreftul._

_"Yeah! And why are you even getting at him anyways? So the Magician returned, how does _this_ affect you in the slightest? As far as I know, you don't even_ like_ Supers or have ANY interest, whatsoever! You have absolutely nothing to do with them! And why blame Feli, huh? He's just as innocent with you when it comes to Supers! So what is the big DEAL?_"

_Arthur settled for an angry glare, that kind of read as "You have no idea". Alfred was still angry. The two kept their gazes steady._

_It was only then that Arthur realised how panicked he was. He had no control over the Sight whatsoever. This was a sign of immense panic. He was picking up so many things at once that he could barely make sense of what was happening around him. And his plan backfired on him completely. Instead of _them _feeling guilty, _he_ was._

_He should have listened to Gerry._

_"It's no wonder you have no friends, if you treat them all like _this._" Gilbert spoke up. He too was upset about Arthur's irrational rage. Much like everyone else present.  
_

_Suddenly Arthur was feeling increasingly uncomfortable. He REALLY hadn't thought this through._

_He didn't want to stay here and be berated. That... That felt so _wrong. _He certainly did not want to admit he'd been wrong. So he did the first thing that came into his mind._

_He turned on his heel and walked out of the café. As soon as he left it, he ran away._

_He then donned the mask and went off to vent his frustration, but that eventually ended with America turning up and chasing the Magician off._

_Arthur sighed._

_He really hadn't thought it through._

* * *

So now Arthur had severed his friendship with the Supers. He shook his head, tiredly. _Why_ did he feel that this was a bad thing? He shouldn't feel guilty or upset about it. They were his _enemies_.

He should still _hate_ them.

And he did. He just didn't... loathe them that much any more...

"... Well, I never really had any friends to begin with... My dad and I did a lot of moving, so I never really got the chance and then I didn't have the time... Look, wait, _how_ did we start talking about my personal issues? Those are, well, personal! That's _not_ funny Feliciano, stop _laughing at me._... Well... All right. Yes for the billionth time _I'm sorry._.. Francis doesn't know? Well, good- I mean... Listen Feliciano- Oh. All right. Listen _Feli_, I need to go now. I'm meeting up with a frien- ... What do you mean by _that_? You guys aren't my only friends you know! And hang on, since when- Oh, yeah, fine. All right. Yes. _What?_ No! _He_ is just a friend of mine, _not a special lady friend! _I don't have _time_ for that _anyway._ Oh good lord... Yeah, yeah, all right. Well, see you later then. Yes. Bye Feli."

At least Feliciano wasn't upset with him.

... _Wait... "at least"?_ Arthur thought for a moment.

Right, focus on getting rid of Cold Bite and the Great Dragon. Everything else was just getting ridiculously complicated and confusing.

Arthur rang the doorbell.

"_Good afternoon__ Mr Kirkland. He has been expecting you. I'll let you in._"

The heavy gates opened.

"_He is waiting for you in the hallway._"

"Thank you." Arthur said, entering. He put his phone onto silent and placed it in his satchel, as he approached the front door. Again, when he entered, he was greeted by the Whisperer and led to a saloon.

"So..." the Whisperer began, as he poured something for himself and Arthur to drink. "... What do you wish to know?"

"Some information about Blue Hands."

"That would be costly. Cat treats won't cut it this time." Heracles replied, handing the Brit his drink. Arthur shrugged.

"I thought so. How would you feel about a round of information sharing? You answer my questions, I answer yours."

"... Tempting. But what sort of information could you possibly have that I _don't_?"

"Based on that you have to gather your information through cats, while _I_ have more... efficient ways of gaining information..."

Heracles looked Arthur over. He was considering it.

"... Yes, but if I wished, I could always pay people to gather information for me..."

"Yes, but people are more unreliable than cats, more costly and you're more likely to be caught, as while Mr. Karpusi is not known as a Super, he certainly _is_ known to know most of the current gossip."

"That is true... All right. And how do you suggest we go about this?"

"We both tell the other a question we want to ask. For example, if you ask me how I gain my information, I can decide, based on my own question, whether or not it would be worth it to tell you my information."

"Agreed. Please, make yourself comfortable." Heracles waved around the room, while sitting down on a sofa. Again, the only other sitting spot was a beanie bag. Sighing, Arthur sat himself down in it, sinking ridiculously low.

Sometimes he wondered if his pride was just an illusion.

A cat jumped onto him. He stroked it.

"My first question is, what history does Blue Hands have?"

"Mine is, do you know the secret identities of the Dream Team?"

Arthur flinched at this. He didn't want people knowing he knew the identity of Supers.

"Mmh... I've changed the first question. I want to know Blue Hand's history _and_ his motivation."

"Well, then I would like to know _how_ you learnt their identities, if you have."

"Too high. I'm not answering your question."

"Ah, so you _do_ know their secret identities." Heracles concluded. Arthur frowned. He could have avoided that, but instead, he made an amateur mistake while conversing, accidentally leaking out information that was supposed to remain secret. What was _with_ him lately? Usually he was so _good_ with words... Must be all that complicated confusion going on in his private life. He hadn't expected it to influence his actions as the Magician though...

"Doesn't matter. I cannot tell you how I know their identities. That is _far_ too high. Nothing you could offer me could ever get me to reveal _that_."

Heracles looked up curiously.

"Huh." he said after a while. "Nothing at all?"

Arthur nodded. There was _nothing_ in the world that could make him reveal his super power. He had just discovered that he liked people thinking him a non-Super, a norm and not in any way special.

"Fine, _which_ secret identities do you know? Including super villains." Heracles asked, eventually. Arthur frowned. The Whisperer really wanted to know how Arthur gained his information now. He hoped Heracles would soon forget about it... That probably wouldn't happen, but one could hope.

Arthur leant back in his beanie bag.

"Fair enough. I know the name of every super villain, super hero and neutral in New Pond City, if I've met them."

"Prove it."

"America is Alfred Jones, Inviso Matthew Williams, Veloce Feliciano Vargas, Shiro Ninja Kiku Honda, Germanium Ludwig Beilschmidt, Red Blitz Gilbert Beilschmidt-"

"Hm. How about super villains?"

"Cold Bite is Yevgeny Zima, the Great Dragon Long Sun, Snow Princess Haldana Zima, Blue Hands Ivan Braginsky-"

"All right... That is... very interesting..."

"Now, answer my question."

"All right. As you know, Blue Hands' name is Ivan Braginsky. He has two sisters and originally comes from Russia. His father and mother died in a car accident, which left him and his sisters orphans with nowhere to go. His youngest sister was adopted by an American couple, leaving him and his older sister behind in Russia. When he turned twelve, he ran away from the orphanage, but got lost. He then discovered he was a Super, with the ability to create and manipulate frozen water, as well as tolerate cold temperatures. He was then found by Cold Bite, who trained Blue Hands to use his powers efficiently.

Later, his sister became a student at a college here in America, eventually getting a job and bringing her brother over to the US. They then tracked down their youngest sibling. Would have ended happily, had Cold Bite not come over to America a few odd years ago. As Cold Bite knew his "son" lived in America, he tracked him down. Blue Hands at first resisted, but then Cold Bite threatened his sisters, so Blue Hands went along. Blue Hands was originally a Neutral, but became a Super Villain for Cold Bite's sake. He doesn't mind working for him, as it pays well and he can support his younger sister through college, as her adoptive family... can't.

Blue Hands has been tested for insanity, but has always come out sane. He likes being a super villain, but has started hating gangs, as he dislikes the fact that Cold Bite treats most of the Frozen Stars very, very badly. I think Blue Hands dreams of a villainy world where... Well, they're all equals."

"Huh."

"My next question, if you know the secret identities of the Dream Team, explain to me why you _befriended_ them and if necessary, _how_."

"Tell me about Blue Hands' capabilities and weaknesses."

"My question first."

"Fine. I didn't deliberately befriend them. As you know, I worked for Veloce's grandfather at the café as one of the waiters. Unfortunately for me, I didn't realise Feliciano would be working there too. Earlier this year, I bumped into some of the Dream Team and Feliciano, for the first time, outside of the world of Supers and work. I was then kind of roped into their circle of friends, though, I doubt that will last long."

"All right. Blue Hands does not like being referred to as crazy, he's very sensitive about that. He also doesn't like being told he is worthless and useless. He is quite smart and with unknown help, can gather his own information with ease. He can get very violent and be malicious, but has until now never shown this. He hides his feelings behind this child-like smile. He's very fond of children and, as mentioned, sunflowers. He's not as stupid as he looks and can probably look through any mind games thrown at him. This may also partially because his older sister works as a psychiatrist."

"My next question. Is that white suit your new suit?"

"My next question is, where does Mr Braginsky live?"

"My question first."

"Fine. No, it's not a new suit. It's a one-time thing. I'll be wearing my usual black one again..."

* * *

**It's the Magician's one year anniversary! How could I NOT update? :D  
**

**This chapter is very short, as I didn't have enough time to write it full-length. And nothing happens. And it's not the best chapter I've written... But that's FIIIIIIIINE.**

**If you have better name suggestions for General Winter (Cold Bite) or China's Boss (the Great Dragon), please leave them in a review!  
**

**See you again at the end of the month! :D**


	16. Blackie

The constant whirring noise of the lift stopped Arthur from zoning out, as he patiently waited for it to get to the top floor. He was leaning against one of the walls, watching the numbers slowly grow bigger. Aside from himself, the lift was empty.

He was on his way up to his boss, as after he'd asked for a two week holiday, they had ended up arguing. He had then been asked to come over so that they could go over the "issue" face to face.

Really, this was a big mistake on Edelstein's part. Sure, the guy couldn't know that the Brit rarely lost a debate or fight, but this didn't change the fact that a serious conversation held over the phone would often turn out different than one held face to face.

As said, Arthur rarely lost a fight, assuming he could see his opponent. This was because he, again, had the Sight, which enabled him to know what the other would say, before even they did. Naturally it took several years to start using this ability properly, as there was such a time in which Arthur had been... clumsy with his words (he still was, as evidenced when dealing with the Dream Team in his private life, but he'd never admit it)

He stood up. He had arrived at his designated floor. Adjusting his good, old satchel, he walked down to Edelstein's office, opening the door once he got there.

"Hello." he said as he entered, sitting down on a chair placed opposite Edelstein's desk.

"Good morning. Wait a moment, I just need to finish this." he replied, typing away at a computer.

Arthur nodded and leant back into his seat, relaxing. He looked around, noticing a second chair, next to him.

... What was with that? Why was there another chair next to him...?

"All right, I called you in so we could discuss your request for a holiday." Roderich said, turning to face Arthur.

Arthur nodded.

He felt he should look Roderich over with the Sight, to see what the Austrian was (vaguely) thinking, however, before he got the chance, the man handed him a piece of paper.

"I've decided to let you have it, here."

Arthur froze and looked from the paper to Roderich and back.

It wasn't fake... It was real. Why had he suddenly given it to him, when he so clearly didn't want Kirkland going on holiday-

Again, Arthur's train of thought was interrupted.

"You called me?" Elizaveta asked, entering the room too. Arthur sat up, automatically turning around to see her.

... What was she doing here...?

"Yes, I want you to meet your new partner. I think you both met at the Art gallery, when we were attending the Rose of Britain-"

"Arthur? You're a journalist? I thought you were one of those delivery boys or bloggers." Elizaveta said. Arthur stared blankly at Elizaveta.

... What?

"I, uh..." Arthur said, looking back and forth between his holiday, Roderich and Elizaveta. She sat down in the chair next to Arthur.

"But... I thought I was supposed to be..." Arthur trailed, finally deciding to rest his gaze on Roderich. The man shrugged.

"You both are working to write articles or take photos of Supers. I saw no reason why I shouldn't pair you both up, especially since Elizaveta has been looking for a new partner for months now."

"But how will we be able to write articles with matching photos...?"

"Well, you'll both be present at wherever the news on Supers takes you. After all, you too have to be present in order to observe and write. All you have to do now is call Elizaveta when something is going on and she'll hop right to it."

"But how will Elizaveta know when and where to take a photo-"

"Don't worry, she'll know. She's been doing this for years, don't doubt her."

"Wait, you're partnering me with him?" Elizaveta asked, frustrated that up until now, she hadn't managed to get a word in edgewise.

"Yes. Anyway, Arthur, as you know, this is Elizaveta Hedervary, Elizaveta-"

"This is Arthur Kirkland, I know, I know."

"No. This is _True Eyes._ New Pond City's favourite anonymous journalist?" Roderich corrected, carefully watching the photographer's reaction. She immediately looked over to Arthur, a sort of sparkling in her eyes flashing up immediately.

"Wait, _you're_ _True Eyes?_" she asked. Arthur blinked a few times before nodding.

"Uh... I suppose I am..." he said, quietly. Elizaveta smiled and started speaking rapidly. At this point, the Brit had tuned her out and stared blankly into space.

What had just happened? A moment ago, everything was fine, he was going to get his holiday, then be off to meet up with Francis and Mattie, who both thought somehow that Arthur needed cooking lessons. Now he was being partnered with Elizaveta, star photographer of New Heta Paper, and...

If he was partnered, he would have to be present at every event or scene related to Supers... As Arthur Kirkland. But... Up until now, he'd been disguised as the Magician, even if he had had an inactive role in the whole scheme of things. And when he _was_ active...

He couldn't be Kirkland _and_ the Magician at the same time! That was impossible (unless you had the duplication super power. Which Arthur, of course, didn't).

Arthur had to object, but sadly for him, the only word he ever uttered to even voice his objection to the team-up, was an educated "Uh...", much like that horribly fateful night Kirkland got involved with the Supers.

Arthur hated that word "Uh". Up until now, whenever he used it, it changed his life forever. And _not_ in a good way.

Either way, it didn't matter. Nobody heard him say "Uh", as Elizaveta's excited voice was much louder than his.

Much, _much_ louder.

* * *

They all looked at the blackened coals lying on the tray. Francis and Mattie in horror, Arthur in embarrassment.

"... How did you still mess up?" Mattie slowly asked, finally recovering from his shock.

"... We even _watched_ you this time. Corrected your mistakes. Made sure you didn't get _inventive._" Francis commented, prodding the lumps of blackness. Arthur looked away, crossing his arms, frowning.

"Well, I waited for them to bake and when the time was up, they were still gooey, so I let them cook a little longer... and I picked up this book and..."

"I _told_ you we shouldn't have left him! But do you ever _listen_?" Mattie said, turning to Francis. But the Frenchman didn't even register the poor guy. Instead, Francis threw one of the hard black rocks into the air a few times.

"... Hm. I bet you could kill a duck with one of these." Francis commented. "... At least you got everything right up until the actual cooking got involved... That _is _improvement."

"What? Excuse me, but these _perfectly fine_ scones are just a little well cooked. I mean, scratch off the surface and I'm _sure_ they'll be fine!"

"Oh really? Want to try one?" Francis dared. He was a master of cooking. Arthur wasn't. And, as a _real_ cook, Francis couldn't let someone like Arthur claim that that... those _T__hings _Arthur had created were just "_fine"._ Because they most certainly were not.

The two glared at each other.

Arthur hesitated, but picked one up. Unluckily for the Brit, he was a man of pride and could _not_ let Francis know that he was in fact wrong about the scones being all right.

"Wait, Arthur, you don't really have to-" Mattie spoke up, but was again unheard. Francis watched with expectant amusement. He couldn't wait to see Arthur's face scrunch up and spit out the horrid thing he dared call "a little well cooked"

Arthur took a bite. He opened his eyes surprised. He chewed a little more. He looked thoughtful. He swallowed.

"Huh. This doesn't taste bad at all!" Arthur commented, finishing the scone and picking up another. It was obvious that the Brit actually _liked_ the monstrosities. Francis and Mattie shared a look, before they both reached for a heavily burnt scone (if you could call them that) and took a bite.

However, unlike Arthur, they did _not_ like what they tasted and immediately spat it out, running off to find something to rinse the taste of black lumpiness out.

"Mon Dieu, I've tasted better _sewer water_." Francis moaned, washing his mouth out, trying to rid himself of the taste. Mattie groaned.

"Why did I do that? I even knew..."

And Arthur, of course, just stared in confusion.

"... But these taste fine." he muttered quietly.

"Ugh... I suppose it's an acquired taste..." Francis moaned. Arthur sighed.

"Fine. I'll make some tea and coffee before you leave then."

When Arthur finished making his cup of tea and two coffees for Mattie and Francis, he brought it into the living room. Mattie and Francis had already settled down on the sofa, chatting to each other, immediately changing topic when Arthur entered the room. They had been talking about Super business, which was a bit careless of them.

The Brit decided to pick up on it, to sort of subconsciously lecture them for speaking so freely about Super business.

"Here are your coffees. Pardon me for being nosy, but did I hear something about Sky Scar and you wanting to take him on or something?"

"E-er, no. D-don't be daft, why would we take _Sky Scar, _that flying, flame-thrower loving _maniac_ on? We w-were just t-talking about-" Mattie stuttered.

"Jeanne Ofarcher." Francis said, saying the first thing that came to his head. Arthur looked at the Frenchman surprised.

"The chief of police? Why her?"

"Well, I'm helping her with the clean-up." Francis announced, proudly. Arthur looked at Francis, running the Sight on him. Jeanne Ofarcher. Oh my.

Francis had the smallest of crushes on her. Barely noticeable, but it was there.

He'd have to make sure Francis never acted on these feelings. If Jeanne and Francis start a romantic relationship, Francis may eventually trust her enough to reveal his secret identity. Jeanne, being the chief of police, has a loud voice in New Pond City. When Arthur starts spreading his Anti-Super propaganda, if she's for Supers, the efforts would prove to be pointless.

Naturally, this is all a worst-case scenario, but Arthur should still take precautions to make sure this reality would never happen.

Arthur focused his attention on what Francis was saying. He was blubbering on about Jeanne of Ofarcher. Right. Stop Francis from every befriending, let alone starting a romantic relationship, with Jeanne Ofarcher.

Mattie laughed.

"What's so funny?" Francis asked, stopping mid-sentence.

"Sorry, it's nothing. It's just the way you go on about her, you might as well-"

"Mattie, your coffee is getting cold." Arthur interrupted, giving the Canadian his coffee. He then picked up his cup of tea and sat back down in his armchair. He had successfully destroyed Mattie's train of thought.

Sighing, Arthur absent-mindedly placed his hand on the rim of Geraldine's fish-bowl, his fingers dangling in the water. The goldfish happily swam around them, not biting them at all, very much unlike the common goldfish would.

"I should head back soon, make sure Alfred's not going crazy." Mattie said, sipping his coffee. "Our birthdays are coming up soon and Alfred goes wild with planning his birthday party."

"Wait, _birthdays_? I thought you were twins?" Arthur said. True, the two were twins. And Arthur knew the reason why they had separate birthdays. But Francis and Mattie didn't know that Arthur knew, so Arthur should play the role of "new, unknowing friend".

"Yeah. We _are_ twins, but we were born on at midnight. Well, I was born at 23:50, second of July and Alfred was born at 00:17, third of July. So we technically came to the world with separate birthdays, despite being twins. My dad's Canadian and my mum's American and they noticed how close our birthdays were to the national days of America and Canada, so, as a joke I suppose, they claimed my birthday to be the first of July and Alfred's to be the fourth of July. The guys registering us must have believed them or played along with the joke, since they registered our official birthdays as that."

"Oh. That must be... uh... Strange?"

"Actually, it's really practical. It means Alfred and I can celebrate our birthdays on different days, without the parties being back-to-back. Also, on the second and third of July, we have a family celebration, so we celebrate our real birthdays with our parents. Also, we didn't have to pay for fireworks on our eighteenth."

"Oh, um... Practical. But didn't your parents divorce...?"

"Yeah... They were divorced when we were really small, but they remarried when we turned twelve. Since our thirteenth it's been a family tradition. It's also on the thirteenth that we found out that our birthdays aren't actually on national days, but we eventually forgave them for lying to us for years..." Mattie trailed off and looked away.

Arthur could see that Mattie had never really forgiven his parents. It wasn't just because they'd lied about their birthdays. Mattie hadn't even known he'd had a brother until he turned twelve.

Huh. Kind of like with Arthur and Peter.

Only, Arthur wasn't Peter's twin and was a stand-in father for the younger Kirkland brother, as (as far as Arthur knew) their father was incapable of being a dad.

He sighed.

"Oh yes, while we're talking about birthday parties, I'm not throwing one this year, but Alfred is. Here's an invitation." Mattie said, giving Arthur a white envelope.

"Huh?" he asked, looking it over. "But June's only just started. Isn't it a little early to be handing out invitations?"

"I already told you, my brother goes mad about planning his birthday party. If it wasn't for me, he would have done a _lot_ more than just write the invitations. He gets it from Mum."

"Oh. Well, uh... When is it? The birthday party, I mean."

"Fourth of July."

_Oh thank God..._ Arthur thought to himself.

"Sorry, I can't come. I've already booked a holiday, I'm not here for two weeks." Arthur partially lied, smiling apologetically.

"Oh... That's a pity. Where are you going?"

"Just here and there." Arthur replied. Time for a topic change, before Arthur had to start making up more lies. "Look, Francis, Mattie... You two are the first two people I've seen since yesterday and I... I want to apologise for how I behaved in the café. I don't know what came over me, I just acted without thinking." _literally._ Arthur thought to himself. Usually he was so good at planning things...

The two stared blankly at him, before laughing.

"Oh _that_. Cher, most of us have already forgotten about that. But merci for the apology anyway."

"Seriously, I mean, yeah, we were pretty upset when it first happened, but then later, it was like, typical Arthur behaviour, so we shrugged it off." Mattie said, smiling. Arthur looked at them surprised.

He hadn't seen this coming.

"Oh. Well, uh... um... Thanks..."

"Anyway, thanks for the coffee Arthur. I should be going." Mattie said, getting up.

"As should I." Francis said, likewise standing up.

"All right. Well, thank you for your... uh... cooking lessons, I suppose."

"Oh, it's not over yet Rosbif. I'm going to teach you how to cook, even if it kills me." Francis announced.

"... But I _can_ cook..." Arthur muttered.

The three bid their goodbyes and Arthur found himself to be alone in the apartment.

Well, not completely alone. Geraldine was there too.

"Hey Gerry." Arthur said, walking back into the living room. The goldfish swam up to him, as if to look at him and silently say "I'm listening to you".

"What do you think? I could technically go and visit Blackie tonight. The Great Dragon isn't in, so tonight's one of those low-protection nights... I have the necessary equipment to get in and out without being noticed... Well Gerry? Should I? What do you think?"

The fish swam up and down. Arthur smiled.

"Right. You're hungry. I'll go get you some food."

* * *

It was late at night.

Yao sat alone on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He was living the life, in a luxurious, wonderful room. He had everything he could possibly want.

But he hated his life.

Arthur stared at the man, expressionless.

Five years ago, he felt no empathy for _anyone_. Children included.

Two years ago, he felt no empathy for any adults or teens. Supers included.

Now he could even empathise with supers. Arthur smiled slightly. If this continued, he may have to stop being the Magician. He carefully opened the window and entered.

"So this is that dark, ugly corner the others say you've crawled into. A darkened room, all alone, by yourself." he said, while remaining invisible in the shadows. Yao sat up, alert.

"Who's there?" he demanded.

"Oh, I think you know..." Arthur responded, appearing in front of him. "It's your favourite enemy." He was, naturally, fully clad as the Magician, black top-hat and all. Yao could only stare blankly at the Brit.

"Huh? How-wha-why-"

"Please. When you were still on the side of all that is good and noble, you_ must _have noticed I knew more than what I revealed."

The Black Ninja stared at him, unable to process what was happening.

A moment ago, Yao had been spending a horrid night, alone by himself again, friendless and without any freewill, and now suddenly, the Magician, for whatever reason, has dropped by.

But most importantly, how the heck did the Magician know that Yao Wang was the Black Ninja?

"Don't come any closer, aru." Yao ordered, taking a defensive position. The Magician rolled his eyes.

"I won't, don't worry."

Yao glared at him.

"All right, _firstly_, how do you know I'm the Black Ninja, aru?"

"Oh, that's easy. You just told me."

"Don't toy with me _Magician._ You already knew who I am before coming here. You're not a burglar and wouldn't randomly enter someone's home."

"Well, I wouldn't exactly call this place home. More like... Prison, am I correct?"

Yao frowned.

"You have no idea how much effort it was just to get in here! I don't want to even _imagine_ what it'll be like when I try to leave."

"You haven't answered my question, how do you know I'm the Black Ninja, aru!"

Arthur sighed.

"I'm sure you know who the Whisperer is? At least, by now?"

"The supposedly _neutral_ Super that sells information to Super Villains for cat trinkets?"

"Ah, but he _is_ neutral. He can't help it if the dear Dream Team never bothered even _learning_ about neutral supers. He would have been just as willing to help them as well."

"For a price. Which is not_ right, _aru."

"Well it should be, considering one can learn the secret identities of Supers from him."

"Not true. He doesn't reveal the secret identity of any Super. Maybe their background story, but never their identity. How do you know my secret identity, aru?"

Arthur finally gave in.

"Isn't it obvious? With your paper-thin disguises, it's a miracle half of New Pond doesn't already know who you are."

The Black Ninja backed away.

"... What?"

"I saw both of your identities, put one and one together and _bingo_. Yao Wang is Black Ninja."

"... But... Wait, you said _your paper-thing disguises... _Does that mean you also know the Dream Team's secret identities?" Yao asked alarmed. Arthur grinned slyly.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"I swear, if you do anything to them-" Yao growled, only for the Magician to cut him off mid-sentence.

"Look Blackie, I've been on the scene for how long now? Five years, correct? If I've known your identity for that amount of time, isn't it strange that I've _never_ bothered you until now? I think you have nothing to fear."

"... All right. What do you want, aru?"

"Me? Want something? Please Blackie, can't an old villain like myself visit an old enemy without being suspected of wanting something?"

"No, aru." Yao replied, crossing his arms. Arthur sighed.

"You're no fun at all. As you know, because of the Frozen Stars and Dragons, there can be no lone rangers or neutrals any more."

"Yes, I know, aru."

"And, as you know, I'm a lone ranger. I do not like gangs. At all."

"I sort of knew that, yes, aru."

"So, do you know the reason I am here?"

"You want me to help you destroy the gangs."

"Well done Blackie! May I dare say, the time you've spent as Super Villain has somehow made you smarter! I don't think you could have concluded _that_ two years ago."

"Stop teasing me. I was naïve back then, just like everyone else was- still is." Yao snapped. He then sighed and sat down on his bed, face in hands.

"It's funny, how you never realise how little of the world you understand until something terrible and big happens." Yao muttered, quietly. Arthur frowned, uncomfortable. And here he thought Yao wouldn't be like those good guys any more... Obviously, he was wrong. Oh well, never mind. This would still work, no matter what Yao's attitude.

"So, will you help me?" the Magician asked, walking up to Yao. Immediately, Black Ninja shot to his feet, kicking Arthur in the stomach. The Brit barely managed to dodge. He groaned and lost balance, falling to the floor.

_That's going to leave a bruise..._ Arthur thought, coughing. Yao flinched and sighed. Arthur looked up at him. _Great, Blackie remembers me not being a Super and that I'm more "fragile" than other Super Villains..._

"I told you not to come closer." Yao said firmly, not showing any regret. The Chinese man obviously felt it, but was ignoring it. Huh. _Maybe there's hope for him yet... _Arthur thought, watching Yao walk over to the large, almost panoramic window overlooking New Pond, before struggling to get back to his feet.

He looked back at Yao.

The man didn't look over to see how Arthur was doing, let alone to help him stand up!

... What had the Great Dragon done to the poor guy? Whatever it was, it had seriously changed the Black Ninja. Something inside Arthur ached.

It was probably nostalgia. For the first time since Arthur's return, the Brit realised... Not _everything_ could return to status quo.

... He doubted the Black Ninja could anyway.

"Listen, Blackie, I really need your help. You know I can't take on two villains like Great Dragon or Cold Bite by myself. Not at the same time. And certainly not with at least a hundred villains to back each one up."

"... What makes you think I'll help you?" Yao growled. "You and I may be on the same "side" now, but you are still my enemy. Both personally and simply from the fact that I'm part of the Dragons and you're not."

Arthur sighed. He had expected this from Yao. For a while, the two were silent. Arthur looked out the window too, before sitting down on Yao's bed (not because the kick made him want to sit down, because standing up required too much strength now or anything!)

"Blackie, I know why you switched sides." the Magician announced, looking over to him.

Yao stiffened.

"It seems someone blackmailed Blackie, huh? I bet you never saw that coming." the Brit joked, laughing mirthlessly.

"It's not funny _Magician._" Yao snarled, angrily. Arthur grinned.

"I know. Ironically, that's what makes it funny to me." he replied calmly. "Look, the only reason you're still here is because of those nano-bots in Shiro."

"You _don't say, _aru." Yao replied sarcastically.

"I can make him aware he has nano-bots in his bloodstream. Then you can stop working for the Great Dragon. I'm not saying you can get your normal life back... But at least you get your freewill back. You could move somewhere else, start a new life. Or you could stay here and try to patch things up. Either way, these are both unachievable, unless you can free Shiro from this deadly poison injected into him. And at the moment, I'm offering you the medicine."

"I won't help-"

"Remembering that both Great Dragon and Cold Bite are serious dangers to society and that I _do_ plan on handing them over to the authorities... in my own way, of course."

"Yes, because you're _no threat_ to society."

"I don't openly terrorise and kill people."

"Rose of Britain."

"... I don't kill people."

"All those unsolved murder cases...?"

"I never harmed a soul. I have the files and folders to prove it."

A silence settled over them. Yao stared out the window.

"... Are you serious about helping me?" he asked after a while.

"Yes. If you will help me."

"... In return for your so-called... _medicine..._ You want me to help you take down Cold Bite and Great Dragon."

"Yes."

"... You have yourself a deal, aru." Blackie said. "What do I do first?"

"_First_, you become friends with Ivan Braginski." Arthur announced. "Here's a copy of his profile. All information related to him is on here. Your task is to make him want to rebel against Cold Bite. When you've completed it, you can contact me."

"And how do I do that?"

"Just write a letter and attach it to any cat."

"... Why Ivan Braginski? Who is he anyway?"

"Just read the file."

"All right... So will you be leaving now, aru?" Yao asked, walking over to Arthur. The Brit flinched away from Yao, before calming down and nodding.

"Yes."

"... Hm... Wait." Yao said. Before the Magician could react, he pulled Arthur over, placing a hand on Arthur's injured stomach. His palm briefly lit up, before Arthur's stomach seemed to too. The light then faded and all the pain Arthur had felt from the kick...

It was also gone.

"... Oh... Huh, wait, why... eh?"

"Rendered you speechless, aru? Now that's a talent. I should try to use it more often. Consider this a little thank you gift from me. I look forward to working with you Magician, aru."

* * *

**Sorry for the late update. I'm actually really busy at the moment, so the fact that I found time to write this is a miracle in itself. I'm writing my final tests at the moment, plus I have two projects I need to finish before the end of June. So sorry for any more delayed updates. :/**

**There will also be some FrancexJeanne d'Arc. I hope you don't mind. :P It won't get very far, as Arthur has already sworn to go against it, so don't worry if you dislike it!**

**And also... 100 REVIEWS. THANK YOU SO MUCH. I love you all. ^.^**


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